Hearts and Hazelnuts
by FlamesOfAPhoenix
Summary: They say there is a fine line between love and hate, but Lily Evans swore she would never cross it. Until a certain toerag pushed his way into her life, sweeping aside all of her objections.
1. Merlin, Why Did She Have To Blush?

**Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling and none of her wonderful characters belong to me. Sadly. On a more cheerful note, this is my first attempt at fanfiction! I hope you enjoy it. **

Lily sighed. Loudly. Sitting in the Prefect's compartment, with no one but her owl for company, she glanced down at the letter in her hands. And promptly suffered another wave of anxiety. A tidal wave, in fact. Because there was no way, no _possible_ way, that she could be Head Girl. There must have been a mistake. She looked down at the parchment once more, her nerveless fingers shaking slightly, and mouthed the opening lines to herself. For the twentieth time that morning.

_Dear Miss Evans_

_I am pleased to inform you that we, the board and staff, have decided to appoint you as Head Girl..._

There was more, but those were the lines that kept catching her attention. Despite the letter in her hands, Lily was having a hard time accepting the badge was truly hers. They couldn't have chosen her? Could they? Head Girls were beautiful, talented students and, despite James Potter's numerous serenades to the contrary, Lily Evans did not believe she fitted that description. She was, in her eyes, a frizzy haired ginger with a _slight_ inferiority complex. Looking at her reflection in the grubby train window, Lily tried to put her doubts aside.

Smoothing down a stray curl, Lily turned her mind to more pleasant things. In a few minutes, she was due to meet the new Head Boy and was dying to know who it was. She hoped it would be Remus. The shy, unassuming boy was the other seventh year prefect in Gryffindor and had been her friend for many years. Not for the first time, she wondered how he had become a member of the infamous Marauders. His sensitive nature was a world away from the brash confidence of Potter or Black and, although he possessed a wry sense of humour, she could not imagine what he saw in their pranks.

Shaking her head, Lily began to assess the other candidates. With a pleasurable squirm, she thought of Matthew Stork. The popular Ravenclaw was enjoyable company and this, coupled with looks that had already won him a host of admirers, meant Lily had long nursed a soft spot for him. A reproachful hoot from Hazel, however, quickly dissuaded her from indulging in one of her more fanciful day-dreams. The owl had the uncanny - and highly frustrating – ability to steer Lily's thoughts away from boys. Cynically, Lily had often wondered if Hazel was the subject of a nefarious hex. She wouldn't put it past Potter to jinx her owl, and Hazel certainly didn't hoot when she thought about _him_. Not that she thought about him often… Blushing furiously, Lily quickly moved on.

Instinctively, her mind turned to the Slytherin candidate. With great reluctance, she considered the possibility. It couldn't be Severus could it? Her insides writhed at the idea. Without warning, the word "Mudblood" echoed in her ears and she stood abruptly. She began to pace and watched, without truly seeing, the sea of people rushing along the platform. With a tinge of nostalgia, she watched a pair of first years jabbering away to each other, excitement clearly etched on both their faces, and felt a pang of longing. It had all been so simple then.

She was almost glad when the door creaked open, interrupting her reverie and banishing all memories of Severus from her mind. Smiling, she spun on the spot, half hoping to see Remus standing there.

But it wasn't Remus.

Or Matthew Stork.

It wasn't even Severus.

It was Potter.

The smile died on her lips. If she had any lingering questions about Dumbledore's sanity they were answered. He was mad. Absolutely and undeniably insane. Although she had worries regarding her own suitability, they were dwarfed by her concern about Potter's. He wasn't even a prefect! This had to a joke, right? Perhaps, a hopeful voice inside her mind whispered, this was another of Black's dastardly schemes to send her mad. But the shiny badge on his robes was incontrovertible proof. Belatedly, she realised that she was staring. Lily tried, desperately, to say something – _anything_ – but her mouth failed her. Thankfully, Potter appeared equally stunned.

"Err, hi," he managed finally, running his hands through a shock of dark hair.

"Potter," she said coolly. Something flicked in his eyes.

"Evans."

Touché, Potter. "I take it that you are… that Dumbledore has… you're Head Boy?" she finished, sounding somewhat incoherently. Merlin, why did she have to go red now? Why? The corner of Potter's mouth twitched slightly, as though he had noticed her embarrassment and was considering the best way of making it worse. Lily braced herself for the inevitable. For nearly seven years, Potter had mocked her, asking her out at every opportunity. Her friends thought it was sweet, but Lily knew better. He didn't care for her; this was just another way of making her life hell. What she didn't expect, however, was what he said next.

"Yeah, crazy isn't it?" She blinked. He hadn't asked her out. James Potter, the bane of her existence, was being polite. She nodded mutely, not trusting herself with anything more complex. "Congrats, by the way," Potter offered, giving her an uncertain smile.

"You too," she managed. Something like a smirk crossed his features, but in an instant it was gone. "Look," she said, more forcefully this time, "we're going to have to work together this year. So, can you try and take this seriously?" With relief, she noticed her voice had taken on the haughty tone that she usually employed around Potter. Somehow, this reassured Lily. The world, temporarily turned upside down, had begun to right itself.

"Ok." Lily glanced at him suspiciously, eyebrows furrowed. This time the smirk remained firmly in place. "What do you expect me to do?" he asked, "Blow up the carriage?"

"Something like that," Lily replied automatically.

"If it's any consolation, I left the newest set of explosives with Sirius," Potter told her, making a show of emptying his pockets. Catching the look on Lily's face, he added hastily, "It was a _joke_, Evans. If we're going to work together, you need to work on your sense of humour!"

"My sense of humour is fine, thank you," she said primly, aware her voice was the polar opposite of amused.

"Alright, then." Lily could tell he didn't believe her. But her spirits lifted. As they began to discuss their various duties, she sensed a willingness to learn. Although his light heartedness was undeniably irritating, the enforced cordiality of their conversation allowed them to divide responsibilities without too much distraction. She realised, looking at Potter's face, that the badge had been a shock to him too. But it wouldn't last, of that she was certain. Sooner or later he would revert back to his old ways. And she could return to hating him in peace. Just as things were meant to be.


	2. Meetings and Mudbloods

**Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling and none of her wonderful characters belong to me. Sadly. Hopefully, however, you'll enjoy this chapter. And thank you to the lovely people who have taken time to write a review! **

Following their surprisingly productive talk, Lily and Potter held their first prefect meeting as Head Boy and Head Girl. As the other students filed in, the former could not help but feel a stab of apprehension. All her earlier doubts came flooding back, the tidal wave of worry rearing its ugly head. What if she made a mistake? What if Potter _hadn't_ given Black the explosives? A stream of scenarios, each more unlikely than before, flashed through her mind. Some of the panic must have registered in her face, for Potter gave her a reassuring smile. Hyperventilation under control and her fears of explosions assuaged, they introduced themselves. When Potter announced his appointment as Head Boy, the shocked expression on many faces was priceless. Some of the Slytherins appeared to be furious, Severus scowling at Potter with a look of hatred written across every line of his sallow features. Remus, on the other hand, looked rather pleased.

If the listening students were aware of their history, they didn't voice it. However, Lily was certain that a few were waiting for the inevitable shouting. By their normal standards, the tension between Lily and Potter was minimal. By the rest of humanity's standards, however, Lily suspected the tension could have been cut with a knife. She caught Matthew Stork's look of concern and smiled slightly. With a soft hoot, Hazel nudged any straying thoughts back to the meeting. Typical. Next to her, she was aware of Potter's fists clenching. With a rush of understanding, she realised that Potter had interpreted Stork's expression as criticism of _him_, rather than worry for the antagonistic relationship that existed between the two Heads. Thankfully, a reassuring glance from Lily appeared to calm him down.

As the scarlet express swayed from side to side, Lily ran through the various duties the prefects were expected to perform. Before the meeting, Potter had suggested that Lily handled this part of the proceedings. He pointed out, fairly reasonably, that he knew very little about rotas. In fact, as he admitted to a laughing carriage, he knew more about avoiding prefect patrols than organising them.

"But I'm ready to learn," he said, smiling at a nervous looking fifth year. Blushing furiously, the girl smiled back. Apparently thought Lily, with barely concealed exasperation, the James Potter fan club had permeated every echelon of the school – including the prefects. Rolling her eyes, Lily heard one of the younger Ravenclaws mutter that he wouldn't mind learning to _avoid_ prefect patrols either. A few murmurs of assent echoed around the enclosed space. Leaning back in his seat, Potter conceded that he'd never learnt to outwit Lily. Grumpily, Robin Corner accepted the point, acknowledging that the chance of his succeeding where the illustrious Marauders had failed was slim. Although determined not to, Lily felt a small burst of pride at his words. Indeed, the momentary cheeriness helped her cope with the unblinking stare of Severus Snape. His dark eyes, glittering strangely, never left Lily's face.

Unnerved, Lily's concentration drifted. Images of a younger Severus danced in front of her eyes, the friend she had sworn never to lose. Ignoring Hazel's exasperated clucks, Lily forced herself to remember all of Severus' faults. It hurt, more than she cared to admit, but she had to stay strong. As much as she wanted to remain his friend, he had chosen another path. Suddenly, from a shadowy corner, as though someone had read her mind, she heard a snide comment. "A mudblood and a blood-traitor," sneered the voice, "Dumbledore's really lost his marbles this time." There was an inherent cruelty in that tone and Lily didn't like it. Conveniently forgetting that she had already had misgivings about her headmaster's sanity, Lily opened her mouth to defend him. To her shock, Potter got there first.

"Don't you dare call her that," Potter warned, his hand twitching. Lily could tell he was dying to use his wand. A sixth year Slytherin slunk into view, haughty features twisted. "Whatever you say, _Head Boy_," he said, his cronies sniggering at his apparent "wit". Potter wasn't pacified, however.

"Look," he said bluntly, "I know some of you can't wait to join Voldemort, but I would appreciate it if you'd refrain from bringing your prejudices to this meeting." There was a gasp at this, a few girls squeaking at the mention of You-Know-Who's name. Potter ignored them. "In fact," he continued, "if we hear any reports of muggle-born persecution, I will personally ensure that you are punished. Before you can say Quidditch," he concluded, earning a few watery grins from those who knew Madam Hooch's worn out phrase. "And Rosier," he added, glaring at the sixth year, "consider yourself warned." After that, the meeting continued in a rather subdued tone, the Slytherins glowering mutinously.

Unsurprisingly, Lily felt a palpable sense of relief when the meeting ended. Free from Severus' gaze, she leant against the wall, feeling inexplicably exhausted. As he left, Remus patted her on the arm, wordlessly conveying his support. "Well done," she said stiffly to Potter, attempting a weak smile. It pained her to admit it, but his leadership skills were excellent. Far better than her own, she thought with a pang.

Perhaps Potter could sense of her insecurities, for he didn't tease Lily for her stiffness. Instead, with a cocky grin, he sprang to his feet. "You weren't so bad yourself," he exclaimed exuberantly, clearly relishing his freedom. Just before he made it to the door, however, Lily called him back.

"What I meant to say," she said awkwardly, "was, well, thanks… for defending me." She tried furiously not to blush. Besides the obvious embarrassment, red cheeks clashed horribly with her colouring. Merlin, she needed to get a grip. Potter, it seemed, decided to take pity on her.

"Merlin, Evans," he said, "did you just _thank_ me for something?" But his teasing tone belied the seriousness of his words.

"Shut up, Potter."

Ruffling her hair in reply, he left the carriage at a run. Scowling at the inappropriateness of his actions, Lily followed at a more sedate pace. As she paused at a window, using the reflective surface to rearrange her curls, Lily considered the day's events. Evidently, Potter still had issues with personal space. And their conversations still confused her. But it was _progress_. Humming lightly, she padded down the corridor, happily anticipating the stack of sweets her friends had undoubtedly purchased.

Maybe – just maybe – things were looking up.


	3. Too Good To Last

**Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling and none of her wonderful characters belong to me. Sadly. In other news, I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

On some level, Lily had known it was too good to last. She hadn't realised, however, how disappointed she would feel when it failed. After their earlier progress Lily had hoped, rather naively as it happened, that she and Potter had reached a turning point in their relationship. She was wrong. Within minutes of leaving the compartment, she heard a muffled explosion. Heart sinking, she rose from her seat.

"Where are you going, Lils?" Mary asked her, shuffling a pack of Exploding Snap cards and watching with interest as Lily strode purposefully towards the door.

"To see what that noise was," she replied grimly, unconsciously straightening the badge on the front of her robes. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly what – or who – was behind the blast. Clearly, she thought grimly, leaving explosives with Sirius Black _was _cause for concern. In response to her determined tone, Mary raised a heavily pencilled eyebrow. Lily could tell what she was thinking.

Her friend, not for the first time, was wondering why she took rules so seriously. On one occasion, after yet another shouting match with Potter, Mary had asked her why she was such a stickler for regulations. "How," she had said irritably, "can a girl who willingly swims with the giant squid, wears odd socks for the sake of it and is occupied for _hours_ with colour-changing ink be so infatuated with rules?" Lily had rolled her eyes at this and carried on writing her letter, dipping her quill into a fresh pot of colour-changing ink. She was not obsessed! It was only in special cases that her mania for rules took over. Cases that involved Potter, for example.

Speaking of which…

"May I leave?" she asked, in a voice laden with sarcasm. For a second, it looked as though Mary considered stopping her. How Mary would have done this, Lily was unsure. Pin her down, perhaps? Certainly, she appeared to be debating it. Mary began to evaluate the other girls in the compartment, as though looking for suitable backup. When none materialised, she gave a resigned wave of her hand.

"Go on, then."

With a sardonic nod, Lily opened the compartment door and surged up the corridor. "Thanks, mother!" she shouted over her shoulder, causing several passing third years to stare and an indignant Mary to raise her wand warningly. Chuckling, Lily carried on down the corridor. Unsurprisingly, she didn't have to look far to find the scene of the crime. Black smoke billowed from a group of compartments, students screeching as they tried to scrub copious amounts of green goo off their faces and robes.

Despite herself, Lily could not help but smile slightly at Avery's predicament. Stumbling into a pair of Hufflepuffs and desperately attempting to rid his eyes of the glutinous substance, he looked as though a troll had sneezed upon him. Following in his wake, swearing bitterly, was the troublesome Rosier. It was evident that the goo possessed magical qualities, for Rosier's face had turned a nasty shade of green and was five times its normal size. Mindful of his earlier comments, Lily couldn't help but feel he had received his comeuppance.

"Why, Evans," came a voice from behind her, "is that a smirk I see?" Lily spun around. Predictably, Sirius Black was completely unaffected by the chaos. Somehow, he had managed to avoid every drop of goo and Lily was forcefully reminded that she was here in her position as Head Girl. She glared at him.

"I've never said your pranks are unamusing, Black," Lily said defensively. "Just that they're dangerous and irresponsible." She looked pointedly at a crying first year, hoping he would feel a stab of guilt. It was, she realised a few seconds later, a forlorn hope.

"I think you've left out immature," replied Black, "I definitely remember hearing that one once or twice… a minute. Every day. For six years." Beside him, Peter Pettigrew slunk into view. He gave a nervous squeak of laughter.

"Was this you?" she demanded, gesturing at the smoky, gloopy carnage that surrounded them.

"Perhaps." Blacks' smile grew wider. "_Tragically_,I appear to have developed a sudden case of amnesia." After winking at his friends, he asked, in a mock serious tone, "Messrs. Wormtail and Moony, are your recollections similarly compromised?" Both his accomplices nodded although Remus, who had joined them a few moments after Pettigrew had scuttled into view, had the grace to look slightly guilty when he caught Lily's eye.

"Where is he, Black?" she said coldly, eyes flashing. If the rest of the Marauders were here, their prince and prophet would not be far behind.

"Who?" he asked innocently.

"Potter," she hissed. Lily's fleeting amusement had evaporated. He was _Head Boy_, for Merlin's sake! He should be setting an example, not cementing his position as class clown. Tapping her foot impatiently, she stared at Black. He shrugged his shoulders, a smile dancing over his aristocratic features. Lily, infuriated by his attitude, strode down the train carriage. It was completely empty, other students having evacuated the area rather hastily. Even the lady responsible for the trolley had abandoned her post, the trolley itself upended in a corner. The odd chocolate frog had escaped its box, wriggling feebly in patches of goo, and jelly beans littered the floor. Peter kept sneaking furtive looks at the sweets, as though eyeing them up. Feeling slightly disturbed, Lily wrinkled her nose. Besides its generally repellent appearance, it seemed the goo also smelt. Like a skunk.

Lily was not impressed.

As she turned around, preparing to berate Black again, she spotted him. As if out of nowhere, Potter had materialised. Like Remus, he looked uneasy. But Lily didn't care.

"I should have known!" she spat. As one, the Marauders drew back. Her red hair seemed to crackle with anger and the fire within her emerald eyes burned fiercely. For somebody so small, they thought wryly, she was certainly terrifying. "I thought you were beginning to grow up," Lily seethed, fixing Potter with a look of undisguised contempt. "I guess I was wrong."

Spinning on her heel, she strode down the corridor, Potter's voice ringing in her ears.

"Lily, wait!"

"Don't call me Lily, Potter!" she flung over her shoulder, looking away so he couldn't see how much his actions had upset her. Was he born irritating, she wondered, or was it a well-honed skill? She had so desperately wanted this year – her last year – to be perfect. But, thanks to Potter, that was looking increasingly unlikely.


	4. Sometimes, Pie Just Isn't Enough

**Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling and none of her wonderful characters belong to me. Sadly. I hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you to those people who have written reviews, it means a lot!**

Lily was in a poor mood that night. Usually, the Welcome Feast at the beginning of term ensured her happiness. Even after a summer of Petunia, full of hurt and bitterness, the sterling work of the Hogwarts House Elves was enough to drive her problems – temporarily, at least – from Lily's mind. After all, it was very difficult to remain angry when there was so much pie to enjoy. For reasons that Mary had never fathomed, Lily was a firm believer that pie could solve any issue.

Tonight, however, the pie failed her. No matter how many mouthfuls of delicate pastry she shovelled, Lily could not erase the image of Potter from her thoughts. Where was that boy-banishing owl when she needed her? Somewhat bitterly, Lily realised that Hazel probably wouldn't help. She only banished thoughts Lily had of _other_ boys. The vision of James Potter, sporting an infuriating smirk, refused to vanish. Sighing, she pushed her plate away. The pastry, normally so soothing, felt dry and uncomfortable in her throat. Why, for the love of Merlin, did he have to ruin everything with that stupid prank? Why?

Across the table, Marlene gave her a piercing look. Less boisterous than Mary, the blond haired bombshell, she knew Lily better than anyone. With a sympathetic smile, Marlene looked questioningly between Lily and Potter. The former, with a rustle of red curls, gave a curt nod. Curiosity satisfied, Marlene returned to her own food. Everybody, without exception, had witnessed one of the infamous Potter-Evans rows and everybody, without exception, knew the best course of action was to leave them simmering. Reason, the school had soon realised, played very little part in the verbal sparring that took place.

Not that that stopped some from trying to interfere.

"You know, muttered Mary, who had watched the exchange between Lily and Marlene with a shrewd expression, "he's matured."

"Like cheese?" Lily retorted, allowing an element of facetiousness to enter her voice. "Because I agree that he smells…" Wisely, Mary chose to ignore this.

"Well," she continued crossly, "He has. I think you should give him another chance, he might surprise you." Lily snorted. Memories of the goo-covered carriage swam to the forefront of her mind, strengthening her resolve.

Remus, sitting opposite the two girls, gave them an apprehensive look. In all honesty, Lily couldn't blame him. Mary's lecture had been whispered in a vehement hiss, gaining volume as her outrage grew, and that, coupled with Lily's snort, meant that some very odd sounds had issued from their part of the bench. Giving him an apologetic grimace, Lily looked pointedly away from Mary.

To her surprise, it soon appeared that Marlene agreed with Mary. Normally, Lily could rely on her to support her ongoing feud with Potter. Although she did not hate the boy, Marlene had admitted that Potter was slightly conceited and _probably_ deserved taking down a peg or two. Admittedly, terms such as "slightly" and "probably" were not ringing endorsements, but Lily took them as such. Tonight, however, she appeared in favour of a more conciliatory approach.

"She's right," Marlene mouthed across a large platter of meringues, "you need to put the past behind you. Plus," she added, when Lily looked unconvinced, "it'd make Head duties a lot simpler if you could stand to be in the same room!" Lily couldn't argue with that. Instead, she pulled her pie towards her, seeking solace in the dessert. Marlene and Mary exchanged satisfied nods.

Before Lily knew what was happening, the feast was nearly over. Her last one, she reflected sadly. Nevertheless, she listened as attentively as Dumbledore – half moon spectacles glistening and long, silvery beard dangling perilously close to the candle flame – gave the closing speech. Indeed, she felt a small glimmer of pride when he told the student body that their Head Boy and Head Girl would ensure their wellbeing over the coming year. His piercing blue eyes, which always gave Lily the impression that they were x-raying her, seemed to flicker towards her own. She sat a little straighter.

With a scrape of benches, the host of black-robed figures rose to their feet. Keeping a close eye on the prefects, she began ushering the Gryffindor first years towards the stair case.

"First years this way, over here… Look lively!" Turning, Lily saw that Potter was marshalling the new students into a group. Maybe, said that small voice in the back of her head, he _has_ grown up. Ignoring it, Lily carried on climbing the moving staircases, careful to ensure she didn't lose an excitable eleven year old to Peeves' mischief… Or a Marauder's prank. Senses alert, Lily continued through the castle.

Finally, and without major mishap, unless you counted Black's attempt to transfigure a small child into an umbrella, they reached the Fat Lady's portrait. The ex-umbrella seemed none the worse for wear, although he still appeared to have a waterproof sheen. Lily hoped that would wear off.

"Norwegian Ridgeback," she murmured tiredly, certain that Hagrid had had a hand in choosing the new password. He'd always wanted a dragon. With a grown, the portrait swung open and Lily's first years clambered inside. Once more, she felt a rush of nostalgia at the pure exhilaration she saw on many of their faces.

"Weird to think we were that small," said a voice from beside her. Glancing at him, Lily saw that James Potter had his customary smile plastered all over his features. "Although I'm not entirely sure you've grown much since then," he joked, exaggeratedly peering down at her. In the face of Lily's scowl, he tailed off, aware, perhaps, that she was not in the mood to be trifled with.

"About earlier," she began, but Potter interrupted her.

"It wasn't me."

Lily snorted for the second time that evening, disbelief clear on her freckled face, and irritably flicked her red tresses out of her face. Noticing her reaction, Potter sighed, the excuses on his lips dying. Instead, he appealed to her sense of duty.

"Look, Evans," he said, mimicking her earlier tone. "We have to work together, so… truce?" He held out a hand.

Reluctantly, Lily shook it, feeling as though she was making a pact with the Devil. Underneath her fingers, she could feel the calluses that years of Quidditch had inflicted upon his skin. Lily had never really thought about the amount of effort Quidditch players put in before. Although she liked Quidditch, her hatred of Potter had coloured the judgement of its participants. Suddenly, she was aware she was holding Potter's hand and let go abruptly.

"Good," he said, heading towards the staircase. Pausing, he stared at her. "I know you don't want to believe me," he said earnestly, "but I really want this to work."

And with that parting remark he was gone, leaving Lily alone with her very confused thoughts.


	5. An Uneasy Peace

**Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling and none of her wonderful characters belong to me. Thank you for reading and reviewing this, your comments really encourage me. **

The truce, or détente as the irascible Black quickly dubbed it, lasted longer than anyone had expected. Much like the superpowers of the muggle Cold War, Lily considered herself and Potter too diametrically opposed to cease hostilities, but there was a definite thawing of tension between the two Heads.

Admittedly, Lily still hadn't forgiven Potter for his prank on the Hogwarts Express. She was also irritated that he hadn't admitted his guilt. To her constant surprise, however, Potter had kept his promise to work. Grudgingly, she had to admit he was an excellent Head Boy. His leadership skills, so clearly demonstrated during their first meeting, were blossoming. In her heart of hearts, Lily was jealous of this ability. She knew she could never be that popular. The best she could hope for, she thought regretfully, was a sort of grudging respect. However, there was no denying that her organisational skills complimented Potter's easy management of people and the weeks passed remarkably smoothly.

Autumn, she mused, seemed to creep up on them.

As the last embers of summer died, the trees began to turn a golden brown. A glorious palette of reds and oranges created a warm glow in the grounds, despite the falling temperature, and Lily could not help but marvel at its beauty. Although she liked summer, she adored the wild splendour of the fall. Hagrid was often to be found sweeping the paths clean of the foliage, the rustling leaves of the Whomping Willow proving curiously difficult to control.

However, unlike the grounds, the atmosphere inside the castle was strained. Lily was appalled, although unsurprised, by the anti-muggle sentiments expressed by some of the students. It was easy to demonise Slytherin, but the sad truth was that there was someone in every house who felt that way. The confrontation between Potter and Rosier on the train was the first in a series of nasty incidents that marred the sanctity of Hogwarts. Whispers would follow her down the hall, people turning to stare at the "mudblood" Head Girl as she walked to class. On several occasions, she thought she saw hands twitch nervously, as though suppressing the urge to jinx her. Soon, she took to casting a shield charm between classes.

Lily had always been aware of the pureblood bias that permeated the system, was used to the surprised look on the faces of others when she told them she was muggleborn, but it still outraged her sense of fairness. Thankfully, she was not alone in this. The anger of her friends was palpable and Potter's outrage was oddly supportive. Now he wasn't asking her out at every opportunity, they had even managed to hold civil conversations.

They still weren't friends, Lily doubted they'd ever manage that, but things were becoming less awkward. The tiny office they shared had barely enough room to swing a kneazle, but they hadn't throttled each other. Yet. In fact, Lily found herself agreeing with Potter's muttered comment that a broom cupboard would be more spacious. However, unlike the vast majority of the female population, Lily didn't relish the idea of spending time in a broom cupboard with James Potter. Frankly, she'd still prefer to kiss the Giant Squid. On every tentacle. She had said as much to him and he had, to her surprise, roared with laughter.

"Merlin, Evans. I didn't know you could be funny!" he had exclaimed, looking rather proud. "Don't worry," he had continued, "I'm not planning to pin you to a wall, I think we've moved on from that stage." At this, Lily had let out a silent sigh of relief. Mary had been muttering about Potter's "hidden feelings" for weeks, concocting various theories, and Lily felt glad she could put _that_ rumour to rest.

She wished she could say the same about the rumours surrounding the actions of Voldemort's Death Eaters. Unconsciously, the castle was holding its breath, waiting to see what was coming next. The unspoken word on every mouth was "war". No one wanted to admit it, but the signs were hard to ignore. The owls winging their way from the outside world – the_ Prophet _had long since stopped reporting real news – brought frightening stories.

Hagrid was impressively stoic about it all. "What's comin' will come and we'll meet it when it does," he said, waving his massive hands. Lily wished she could share his optimism. But, despite the awful news and the vicious whispers, it seemed difficult to accept war was truly on its way. Until the week before Halloween.

It was awful. Marlene had been summoned from Herbology by a grim-faced Professor McGonagall. Ashen, Marlene had followed her. Fear was etched upon her face and Lily felt her insides turn cold. Concern for her best friend sent everything else, even Potter, out of her mind. She scarcely heard a word that Professor Sprout said, barely avoiding a nasty injury. It was only Black's quick action that saved her. With a deceptively lazy flick of his wand, he froze the venomous tentacula's vines in their tracks. Lily had been so preoccupied she hadn't seen it and, judging from Potter's stricken face, she hadn't been the only one.

"Thanks," she muttered to Black, one eye on the door Marlene had left through.

"That's ok," he said, equally gruff. Since détente, he had made a marked effort to improve his own relationship with Lily. She suspected that it had only been loyalty to Potter that had prevented any overtures of friendship from Black. In fairness, by virtue of his acquaintance with Potter, she doubted she would have accepted them. But they had more pressing things to worry about. Black's eyes too, she noticed, kept flickering towards the greenhouse door.

When the bell rang, Lily leapt to her feet. She thought Potter had opened his mouth to say something, but she couldn't care less. Instinctively, she headed back to the Gryffindor tower. If Marlene had had bad news, she would be there. Heart pounding, she ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She knew, deep down, what she would find.

"Pumpkin pasty," she puffed. With a sombre expression, the Fat Lady gestured for her to enter. The red and gold of the common room, so similar to the autumnal colours outside, seemed to jar oddly with Lily's emotions. She felt as though the common room should be covered in ice, not filled with the warmth of a crackling fire. Trying to ignore her terrible sense of foreboding, Lily headed towards the girls' staircase. Climbing the final set of stairs, she crept into the dormitory. She looked around.

Marlene was on her bed, face buried in the covers. Tentatively, Lily said her name.

"Marlene?" Her friend turned around, red-rimmed eyes swimming with tears, and took a wracking breath.

"Lily, he's dead."


	6. A Single Word

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not J. K. Rowling and none of her characters are mine. On an unrelated note, I'm thinking about getting a beta. Any thoughts/volunteers? Thanks for your reviews and for reading, this was a very difficult chapter to write but I hope you enjoy it!**

In the stunned silence that followed, Lily stared at Marlene. Wordlessly, she crossed the room, holding her friend tightly. She held her, rocking her gently. Held her, because that was _all_ she could do. Words weren't enough; they could never be enough to make the pain go away. She didn't want to ask who "he" was. She thought she knew, and she dreaded the answer. Not for herself, although she would miss him, but for Marlene.

"It's David," Marlene sobbed into her shoulder, tears staining Lily's shirt. Lily's heart seemed to fail, her worst fears confirmed. "He… he was on patrol and… " her voice caught in her throat, "they killed him. Death Eaters." She chocked on the last few words, overcome by grief. Stroking Marlene's sandy brown hair, Lily felt her own eyes prickle and resolutely fought the forming tears.

Lily had been right. Since seeing McGonagall, Lily had been haunted by the belief that it was him. David, Marlene's elder brother, was an auror. _Had been_, she corrected herself silently. Smart like his sister, his kind exterior had hidden a steely resolve. With a pang, Lily remembered Marlene's pride when he had fulfilled his ambition to become an auror. She had been there, sitting at the Prichard's table, when the letter had come. Marlene had danced around the kitchen, screaming with delight for her beloved David. It had been all he'd ever wanted. And it had killed him.

A solitary tear trickled down her porcelain cheek.

Lily didn't know how long she sat there. Nor did she care. She watched, without truly seeing, the sun set over the Forbidden Forest. In the face of Marlene's grief, the sight seemed meaningless. The stars, shining in the clear sky, seemed oddly dim. A little while later, Mary joined them, her beautiful face pale. In her hand, she carried a sleeping potion.

"From Pomfrey. For dreamless sleep," she mouthed at Lily, by way of an explanation. At this, Lily felt a wave of affection for the young matron and gently nudged Marlene. The latter looked up, despair etched upon her features. Taking her hand, Mary placed a steaming goblet of potion in her trembling fingers.

"Take this," she said softly. Like Lily, Mary could not deliver trite words. She had known David, too.

Lily expected Marlene to refuse, to insist on fighting her grief without magical help, but she simply nodded mutely. She was broken, Lily realised. Entirely broken. Her expression desolate, Marlene drank the potion.

Eventually, Marlene's wracking sobs were replaced with weaker whimpers. Her breathing slowed and her hold on Lily's shirt loosened. Tenderly, Mary and Lily tucked their friend into her bed, planting gentle kisses on her head. They looked at each other.

"I'll stay," Mary whispered, eyes fixed on Marlene's sleeping form, "You'll need something to eat, you missed dinner. I've told the others to sleep in the sixth form dormitory tonight."

"But," Lily wanted to protest. How could she leave Marlene?

"You'll be no good to her if you collapse," Mary said sternly. Catching Lily's stubborn expression, she added, "Look, I can't do anything for Marlene," her voice shook slightly, "but I can do this for you. So, let me. Please?" The desperation was clear in her tone.

In unwilling acceptance, Lily got wearily to her feet. Wrapping Mary in a brief embrace, she left the dormitory. She knew Marlene wouldn't wake, Madam Pomfrey's potion ensuring her sleep remained dreamless for the rest of the night, but she felt guilty nonetheless. Padding down the stairs, she tried, unsuccessfully, to block images of Marlene and David from her mind. Running her hand along the banister, she tried to focus on more pragmatic things. Mary was right, she _needed _to eat.

When she reached the bottom, however, all thoughts of food fled her. The feeble walls she had built fell, memories filling her brain. Collapsing on a sofa, Lily sobbed, grieving for all that had been lost. She cried until her eyes were raw. Perhaps, Mary had known that Lily needed release, rather than food. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for Mary's offer to sit with Marlene. The memory of Marlene dancing around the kitchen, celebrating David's success, seemed a long time ago.

Suddenly, through her tears, Lily felt a rush of anger. Until that moment, she hadn't truly understood hatred. Sure, she had said – multiple times – that she hated Potter. But she hadn't meant it, not really. Not like she hated Voldemort. Lily Evans was not a vindictive girl. Indeed, she was universally teased for her inability to see the bad in people. At this moment, however, her naïve optimism left her. She thought of Severus, so desperate to join the Death Eaters, and felt disgusted. How could that little boy, her first magical friend, have stooped to this? Her last hope for Severus died. If he could support a man like this, he was beyond Lily's help.

Tears flooded her eyes again, grief for the boy she had known mingling with that she felt for David. By nature, Lily did not cry. She bottled things up, pushed them away. Not today. Unexpectedly, arms wrapped themselves around her, warm arms that seemed to banish the chill she felt in her soul. Recklessly, Lily buried her face in their shirt, drenching it in her tears. At this moment, she didn't care who it was.

Stroking her hair, the other person held her silently. Much like Lily and Mary, they appeared to recognise the value of actions and the futility of words. Finally, when Lily had gained significant composure, she looked at the face of her comforter.

She nearly fell off the sofa.

"Potter." To her utter shock, James Potter returned her stare. Awkwardly, he ruffled his hair with one hand, the other still holding her close.

"Yeah," he said, looking slightly wary. Lily felt herself blush. Merlin, she couldn't believe he'd seen her like this. Colour rising in her cheeks, she broke eye-contact, hurriedly wiping away her tears. "Lily?" asked Potter timidly, "Are you mad?" Lily shook her head. Despite her embarrassment, she wasn't angry. She'd needed someone, a friend. And Potter had been there. _Like he always is_, that voice in the back of her head added.

"I'm not mad," she replied. To his credit, Potter tried to suppress his look of surprise. "I'm…" Grateful? Pleased? Thankful? "Indebted…" she concluded, rather feebly.

"Indebted?" Potter's mouth twitched. Despite the situation, Lily felt the urge to smile.

"Yes, indebted," she said.

"Thank ye kindly gentle miss," said Potter, a slight hint of amusement in his voice as he mocked the archaic word. Lily couldn't help it; she gave him a watery grin.

"I'm bringing it back," she replied defiantly, "do you have a problem with the word 'indebted', James Potter?" She tried to look stern.

"None at all, miss," he said, the incorrigible smirk appearing briefly on his face. And then they were laughing, their idiotic conversation providing the release they both needed.

Suddenly, Lily froze. How could she laugh at a time like this? How could she? She felt sickened with herself. Sliding down the sofa, and away from Potter's arm, Lily felt the tears resurface. Once more, however, he surprised her.

"Lils," he said, placing a hand on her arm, "life goes on. You can't stop living. He wouldn't want that. It's difficult, but you have to smile again. Marlene needs that, _you _need that. Trust me."

And, for the first time, Lily did. Looking into his hazel eyes, she saw an honesty she had never expected to see. Maybe he had changed, she thought. Or maybe, Lily had simply learned to look beyond the Marauder's exterior.

"Thank you, Potter," she whispered and, in a single word, changed their relationship forever. "Friends?" she asked, holding out her hand. Potter looked as though he'd been hit by a bludger.

"Friends," he agreed uncertainly, shaking her hand. Feeling lighter, Lily got up and headed towards the stairs leading to the girl's dormitory.

"Night, Potter," she called. He nodded. As she reached the stairs, however, she heard his voice.

"Here," he said, lobbing her something. Looking at her hands, she realised it was a chocolate frog. "I can't have any friend of mine starving," Potter explained. Thanking him, Lily, smiling in spite of the day's events, climbed the stairs.

And that, as they say, was that.


	7. Potter Has A First Name?

**Disclaimer: I'm not J. K. Rowling and none of her fabulous characters are mine. After the misery of the last chapter, I've tried to write a lighter, fluffier one. I hope you enjoy it, please read and review!**

Despite her midnight conversation with Potter, the shock of David's death hung over Lily for the next few days. For that matter, it hung over them _all_. Marlene left for home the next day, unable to face anyone. Lily and Mary offered to come with her, but Marlene refused their offer.

"I need to prove that I can do this," she said finally, wan but resolute. "I need to show all… all those that support V-V-Voldemort that he cannot win. No matter what he takes from us." She stammered over his name, unused to saying it out loud, but her eyes were steely. With a pang, Lily realised Marlene's determined expression was identical to that of her brother. She was struck, more than anything, by her friend's bravery. People had a habit of underestimating the quiet brunette, but she was braver than anyone.

Looking at Marlene's resolute features, Lily felt proud to be her friend. Saying good bye, she held her close and tried to convey this. She thought Marlene understood; certainly, her eyes glimmered strangely in the light of the fire as she let go. After embracing Mary, Marlene turned towards the portrait hole.

"I'll see you… see you at the funeral," she said quietly. With that, Marlene left. But not before Lily heard a sob escape her.

It was perfectly true; she _would_ see them at the funeral. It had been scheduled for the days following Halloween. According to wizarding folklore, it was bad luck to hold a funeral in the week preceding All Hallow's Eve. Upon learning this, Lily couldn't suppress the thought that surely a funeral was bad luck _enough_. If she was honest, this was another reason for her apprehension. Her knowledge of magical customs was woefully lacking and she had never attended a wizarding service before. Were they like muggle ones? In the current environment, she was aware more than ever of her muggle heritage. The only consolation was that Mary, also a muggleborn, would be equally confused. Unsurprisingly, this wasn't much comfort.

Staring blankly into the distance, Lily was brought back to reality by a tentative voice.

"Lily?" It was Potter.

"Yes," she replied, looking at him with barely focused eyes. Mary, staring between them with interest, took her leave, glancing back over her shoulder. Mary had always been intuitive about changing relationships, eager, Lily suspected, to predict the latest gossip. In this case, however, there was nothing for her to discover. Although, if she was truthful, the news that Lily Evans and James Potter were _friends_ was bound to raise a few eyebrows. Shaking her head slightly, she realised he was still talking to her.

"So, shall we walk down to the meeting together, then?"

"What?" she said, totally befuddled. He looked at her understandingly, clearly aware her attention had wandered. "Earth to Evans," he teased, tousling her hair. "Prefect meeting. Before breakfast. Assigning this week's rota. Ring any bells?"

"Oh," she sighed, suddenly remembering. Potter appeared concerned.

"Look, if you don't feel up to it¸ after yesterday…" he trailed off, worry clear in his tone.

"No, I'm alright," she said, heading towards the portrait hole Marlene had gone through several minutes earlier. "It's like you said last night," Lily reminded him, aware of his unconvinced expression, "life _has _to go on." Potter smiled and she could tell her acknowledgement of his words had meant a lot. Looping his arm through hers, and smirking at her look of discomfort, he dragged her out of the common room.

Some time later, as the meeting finished and the prefects filed out, Lily wondered whether they had noticed the changed relationship between the Head Boy and Head Girl. During previous meetings, Lily had struggled to control her acid tongue, resisting temptation to criticise Potter. Now? The urge was still there, one midnight conversation wasn't enough to change _that_, but she allowed herself to appreciate his strengths too. She still found his laidback attitude irritating, but she couldn't deny it was effective.

However, as Regina Vane gave a high-pitched squeal, Lily began to wish Potter was a little less charming. Her hand twitched, she was dying to banish the giggling girls that followed him. They were a group of dolled-up leaches, she thought grimly, sucking up to anything with a pulse. Merlin, did they _ever_ shut up? She suspected his fan club were angling for an invite to Hogsmede on Halloween. Indeed, at the end of the meeting, Regina Vane, the dark-haired Ravenclaw, handed Potter a box of cauldron cakes. Slyly, she suggested that she would be happy to share them with him. Satisfied she had got his attention, Regina batted her eyelashes and walked away, hips swaying. Blinking rather rapidly, Potter stared after her.

"She's probably spiked them with love potion," Lily said snidely, waiting until the room was clear to deliver this pronouncement. She was irritated by the way Potter's mouth was hanging open. _Honestly_…

"Do you reckon?" asked Potter in alarm.

"Probably." She couldn't keep a hint of smugness out of her tone.

"I'll test them on Wormy, then" said Potter, his expression clearing, "he'll eat anything." Lily was about to remonstrate, before remembering Peter's longing looks at the sweets on the train. Potter was right, she thought grimly, he _would_ eat anything. With a resigned shrug, Lily finished her notes. Flourishing his quill, quite unnecessarily in Lily's opinion, Potter followed suite. "So, Evans," he said conversationally, "fancy going to Hogsmede with me?"

Lily's heart skipped a beat.

He couldn't be serious, not after their talk of the previous night. He wasn't stupid enough to jeopardise their fragile friendship, was he? Sputtering, she sought a reply which conveyed this, but Potter interrupted.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Pardon?" squeaked Lily, her voice several octaves higher than normal. She couldn't believe her ears.

"I was joking, Evans, I just had to say it. For old time's sake," he continued, smirking slightly. "Merlin, you didn't think I was serious did you?"

"No, I know you're not Sirius. You're James," she deadpanned, desperately trying to divert him. Potter stared blankly at her, confused by her entirely blank face. Then, his smirk widened. With satisfaction, Lily saw he had forgotten her earlier overreaction.

"Good Evans!" he cried, mildly pleased at his own joke, "you _can _be funny." Lily laughed at his shocked expression, affecting affront.

"Of course I'm funny," she said loftily, "someone has to compensate for your woeful lack of comedic talent."

Potter gasped. "You wound me," he said, clutching his heart theatrically. Lily giggled. It was amazing, she thought suddenly, how much their relationship had changed. Last year, this conversation would have had no teasing undertone. They would have been completely serious, each barbed comment intended to cause real pain. She was glad they had moved on.

"Come on," Potter said finally, sobering. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. It seems I gave _someone_," he looked pointedly at Lily, "my last chocolate frog." Lily began to object, already formulating a retort of her own, before Potter interrupted her. "But, like I said, I can't have any friend of mine going hungry, speaking of which," he looked sideways at Lily, "friends don't call each other by their last names."

Lily gaped, grasping his meaning. She couldn't call Potter by his first name. She couldn't. It was just wrong!

"Come on, Lily," said Potter, watching her, "live a little!" A teasing note had entered his words.

She thought about it. For a long time.

"Very well… James." The moment his name left her lips, he looked as though Christmas had come early. In turn, Lily felt the corners of her mouth lift at his enthusiasm. Grinning broadly at this change in circumstance, he insisted on walking her to breakfast.

Some people, Lily surmised, were easily satisfied.


	8. Siriusly Smashing Pumpkins

**Disclaimer: I'm not J. K. Rowling and none of her fabulous characters are mine. I decided this story needed a healthy dose of Marauders action, so here it is. I hope you enjoy it, please read and review!**

The Marauders, it had to be said, had been reasonably quiet that term. Besides the exploding carriage, turning small children into umbrellas and a series of petty misdemeanours they had been moderately well behaved. Indeed, they had only kidnapped Mrs. Norris _once_! Some of the staff, most notably Filch, were overjoyed by this. The cantankerous caretaker was delighted at the lack of pranks, crowing over his victory as he prowled the corridors. Unbeknownst to the teachers, however, the Marauders had simply been biding their time. Amongst themselves, the four students had sworn an oath to cause as much mischief as possible.

"We've got to give them something to remember," Black said, Peter nodding sagely at his words as Remus' nose disappeared further into a book. The Marauders, Mary and Lily were sitting around the fire, squashed into some of the comfy armchairs, as the common room buzzed with noisy chatter. Lily's ears perked up.

"I hope," she said, her voice hardening, "that you're not going to do anything _stupid_."

"Stupid?" asked Black innocently, "Whatever could you mean, Lily dearest?" Peter giggled. She scowled, unwilling to accept defeat. She looked pleadingly at James.

"She's right, Padfoot," said James, looking uncomfortable.

"Fine," Black grumbled, "we'll do something… _intelligent_." He said the last word with distaste, but James' expression brightened.

"That's more like it," he said eagerly, "there's this spell I read about that – "

"_Read_?"

"Yes," replied James, appearing remarkably unruffled, "it has been known to happen. Unlike some," he stared significantly at Black, "I know what a book is." Black shrugged, unconcerned by this slur.

"Well, wherever you got it, it better be good."

"Oh, it is," James assured him.

Lily ground her teeth in frustration. Despite her new friendship with James, she was a clear second to his Marauders. This irritated her. She didn't like Black's ability to tempt James with new tricks. Part of her new friendship with James involved a tacit understanding that his prank-playing days were far from over, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She watched with resignation as the Marauders got to their feet, clearly wanting to discuss matters elsewhere.

Perhaps, she thought charitably, this spell wouldn't cause _too_ much trouble…

When she came down to breakfast on Halloween morning, however, it was to find her assumption had been spectacularly optimistic.

Bizarrely, the entire Slytherin table sported pumpkin shaped heads. Staggering around, they collided at regular intervals, their peripheral sight substantially reduced. Splatters of pumpkin decorated the table and the cloud of conjured bats eyed them curiously. Lily noticed, without much surprise, that Rosier's head had been transformed into the most deformed pumpkin she'd ever had the misfortune of spying. He was gesticulating wildly at Professor Holdt, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and Head of Slytherin, clearly complaining.

Most unfortunately, the professor didn't speak pumpkin.

Mary, who had come in slightly after her, roared with laughter. Clutching her sides, her eyes were light with merriment. "Isn't it brilliant?" she said to Lily, giggling at Avery's tiny, orange head. Lily remained silent. "It is, isn't it," Mary continued, taking her silence for acquiescence. "I wonder how they managed it, " she mused, looking thoughtful, "because human transfiguration is highly advanced magic."

"Well," Lily said dully, "Black and Potter are the brightest students in the school." Mary nodded absently, then registered her less-than-ecstatic words.

"I thought you were done calling him Potter?" asked Mary, confused. "Weren't you going to try and call him James?" Understanding dawned on her face. "Wait, you're… you're not _mad_ at him for this, are you? After their conversation yesterday, you must have known something would happen." When Lily refused to answer, looking down at the floor, Mary clucked with irritation. "You can't expect him to give up the pranking," she chided, "it's part of him. He lives to make people laugh."

"But he's Head Boy!" Lily burst out, "he should live to help others, not bully them! Even Slytherins." Mary gave her a surprisingly serious look.

"Don't you think this," she gestured at the chaos which engulfed the hall, "helps people?"

"What?"

"We're at war, Lily, you know that as well as I," Lily's thoughts fluttered to Marlene.

"Yes," she replied curtly.

"Oh, Lils!" cried Mary, exasperated. "Making people laugh _is_ his way of helping them. By making them smile, he helps them forget, if only for a while, the horrors happening outside these walls. I thought you'd understand that." Lily had no answer. In truth, she _did _understand that. But she couldn't help feeling disappointed that James could do this to her, despite his assurances of friendship. She knew she was being irrational, selfish even. She shouldn't expect him to give up a part of himself for her, the girl he'd been "friends" with for a pathetic two days. And it was true, he did make people laugh. As always, she thought wryly, Mary was right.

"I guess," she said meekly.

"I should think so," Mary said sternly. "Now, you're not going to have any breakfast until you laugh. Come on," she smiled at Lily, "let yourself revel in the sheer ludicrousness of the situation!" Resignedly, Lily glanced around the Great Hall, ready to feign a laugh. Just because she was willing to accept James' pranks didn't mean she was ready to endorse them.

Then it happened. As Rosier waved his arms wildly, he slipped on a particularly gooey lump of pumpkin. Unused to his head's vast dimensions, he lost his balance. It was like a domino effect. As he fell, he took down Avery who, subsequently, knocked over a pair of Slytherin third years. By the end of it, the vast majority of the house were on their backs, legs waving feebly in the air. They looked, she thought, like oversized, upturned beetles.

Lily couldn't help it. She laughed.

"That's the spirit!" cried a voice from behind her. Turning round, Lily saw Sirius Black. He was looking decidedly smug, eyeing the pile of Slytherins with a contented air. She felt a sudden rush of déjà vu, reminded, no doubt, of their conversation on the train. This time, however, Mary's speech had left her in a far more forgiving mood.

"Black," she replied, smiling slightly. Black clutched his heart.

"What's this? Lily Evans… _laughing_ at one of our pranks," he stared suspiciously at her. "Who are you and what have you done with our favourite, bossy redhead?

"I'm not bossy, Black," she said, mildly stung. Apparently, however, the anger in her voice was enough to convince Black.

"There she is!" he slung an arm over her shoulder. "I've been thinking, now you're calling Prongsie by his first name, I reckon you should do the same for me," he said this exuberantly, as though it were a perfectly logical step.

"Err, why?" asked Lily, disentangling herself.

"Because," was Black's monosyllabic reply. When she – shockingly – appeared unconvinced, he flung himself to the floor. "Oh, Lilian," he cried.

"My name's not Lilian."

"Oh, _Lily_," he amended, clasping his hands together, "please, please, please will you use my first name?" People were starting to stare now, their attention diverted from the pumpkin-human hybrids that were still stuck on their backs.

"Alright," she sighed. To her embarrassment, several of the onlookers whooped. It reminded her painfully of a muggle show her sister loved, where they filmed public proposals. This impression was furthered by Sirius' subsequent embrace. She squealed as he spun her around. "Put me down," she ordered.

"Put me down… what?"

"Put me down… please?" she hazarded, unsure what he wanted.

"Wrong!" shouted Sirius, spinning her still faster. "What did you just agree to?" Comprehension flooded Lily's thoughts.

"Put me down… _Sirius_." With a sigh, Sirius let go. She fell in an untidy heap, whilst Sirius proceeded to barrel into Rosier. The Slytherin, who had just got to his feet, went flying again, pumpkin face contorted into a comical scowl.

"Whoops," said Sirius, without a hint of contrition. "I reckon we're going to make a great team, Lils," he said smugly, watching Rosier flail on his back again. "Lily and Sirius, taking on the world, fighting the villainous Prongs and his sidekick Sawyer." He mimed a vicious duel, but Lily wasn't paying attention.

"Sawyer," she queried.

"Yeah," Sirius said absently, his concentration focused on a particularly elaborate wand movement, "he's taking her to Hogsmede."

Lily froze.


	9. Denial Is A Dangerous Thing

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and do not own any of her work. For some reason, this chapter was unusually stubborn. But I hope you enjoy it, please read and review!**

Sirius' words echoed in her head.

_Sawyer… he's taking her to Hogsmede_.

Lily stood there, shock rooting her to the spot. She didn't realise she was acting strangely until Mary prodded her gently. "Are you alright?" the blonde queried, raising an impeccably plucked eyebrow.

"Yeah," said Lily dazedly. Why was this news affecting her so strangely? It was true that Sawyer, the leggy brunette that they shared a dormitory with, was every boy's dream, but she couldn't imagine what James saw in her. He'd never struck her as the shallow type. Abruptly, however, she remembered James' mildly pathetic reaction to Regina's vapid flirting. Perhaps Sawyer _was_ his type. But why did this bother her? Lily felt confused.

"Guess I was wrong," continued Mary conversationally, steering Lily towards the Gryffindor table and narrowly avoiding a still-prancing Sirius.

"About what?" asked Lily, without really caring.

"James' feelings for you," came the prompt reply. "I was _so_ sure he still fancied you, but clearly he's got a thing for Sawyer, now," Mary grinned, "I suppose you're feeling pretty relieved, right?"

"Relieved?" Lily tried to organise her blindsided thoughts.

"Yeah, this means he'll finally stop asking you out." Suddenly, something clicked. Lily realised she was feeling – bizarrely – hurt by James' rejection of her, thrown by the sudden change. The small suspicion she had briefly considered was, thankfully, squashed.

Relief, warm, solid relief, flooded through her.

It wasn't that she had _feelings_ for him, she rationalised. No, it was simply her usual fear of rejection rearing its ugly head. This was all her sister's fault, Lily thought bitterly. Petunia's refusal to accept Lily as she was had destroyed Lily's confidence and she had, ever since, suffered the anxiety that other people she cared about would do the same. This was just one more example.

In fact, given recent events, it was no wonder Lily wanted to cling to normality. Even if it did include being the object of James Potter's affections. She wasn't jealous, Lily assured herself, she just feared change and rejection.

Resolutely ignoring the little voice that suggested this wasn't the entire truth; Lily threw herself into conversation with renewed gusto, even giggling at the continued chaos at the Slytherin end of the hall. By the time breakfast had finished, she was quite amused at the ridiculous worries she had entertained. Of course she didn't fancy James Potter.

Walking into the Entrance Hall sometime later, having left Mary eating breakfast and still laughing merrily, she looked around. As befitting a Hogsmede weekend, there were the predictable clusters of students jabbering excitedly, checking their watches as they waited for friends. Lily and Mary hadn't felt in the mood for Hogsmede, sorely feeling Marlene's absence, and had decided to have a relaxed day in front of the roaring fire. The prospect of David's funeral, scheduled for the next day, had also dampened their enthusiasm for the bustling little village. Laughter fading, Lily headed for the stairs, David's face fresh in her thoughts.

Before she had reached the first step, however, she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Severus.

"Can I have a word," he asked, bobbing his pumpkin-shaped head nervously. Was there any Slytherin the Marauders didn't jinx, Lily wondered, suddenly angry again.

"No," she said coolly, although her heart was breaking inside. He appeared so vulnerable standing there, friendless and alone. But it had to be this way. The boy she had cried for was gone, and in his place stood a prejudiced stranger.

"Please, Lily," he said, desperation clear in his voice.

"I'm sorry Severus," she replied, before turning on her heel. A flash of light streaked past her shoulder and she looked around, shocked. Severus had his wand out and she thought, for one awful moment, that it was he who had tried to curse her. She was almost relieved when she realised it was Mulciber.

"No filthy mudblood walks away from us," he crowed, wrapping a comradely arm around Severus' bony shoulders. "Go on, Snape, show her who's _really_ in charge." His voice took on a dangerous edge, "or are you too weak to try?" Severus appeared torn, dark eyes flickering from Lily to Mulciber.

"I- " he began. Whatever he was going to say, however, Lily never found out. A streak of purple light hit him square in the chest, causing his arms and legs to flail erratically. It was an odd sight, the pumpkin-headed teenager dancing in the Entrance Hall, and in any other situation Lily would have been tempted to laugh. Ignoring Mulciber, who was already edging away, she strode towards the culprit.

"What," she hissed, "do you think you're doing?" James stared at her, one arm wrapped around Sawyer in a gross parody of Mulciber's earlier action.

"What do I think I'm… I'm stopping that git from cursing you!" he exclaimed, anger clear in his tone.

"Well, I don't need your help!" Lily shouted back, aware she was overreacting but feeling incensed by the laidback pose James had struck, his relaxed arm cradling Sawyer's waist. "You've already transfigured him this morning, wasn't that enough?" She gestured furiously at Snape's head. In her anger, she conveniently forgot her promise to accept his pranks, conveniently forgot that she had – five minutes ago – been roaring with laughter at his latest trick. Some of the students glanced round curiously at them and Peeves, floating overhead, began to take bets on whether Lily would kill James.

"Why," asked James, now equally furious, "is it always my fault? Whenever precious _Snivellus_ does anything to hurt you, I get the blame!"

"Maybe," snarled Lily, red hair flying, "it's because it _is_ your fault!"

"How?" roared James. People were staring now, transfixed by the spectacle of their Head Boy and Head Girl screaming at each other. "You're not even speaking to him, now! And even that," his voice faltered slightly, "was somehow my fault. _He_ calls you mudblood and I'm the one you got angry at!" He looked, for a moment, hurt. Lily felt a flicker of guilt but promptly ignored it, waving her wand threateningly in his face. James blinked. With a final snarl she strode away, hitting Severus with the counter curse as she went.

Storming off, Lily headed for one of the quieter corridors. As she reached a suitably private niche, she slid down the wall, hiding in the shadow of a particularly hulking suit of armour. Well, she had wanted normality, and there was nothing more normal than a Potter-Evans row. She had thought they were becoming friends, moving beyond their bickering. Her mind was still spinning, anger at James' words flaring in her stomach at regular intervals. She couldn't believe him! How, in the name of _Merlin_, had he expected her to accept his treatment of Severus? She sat there, fuming.

However, the little voice, the same little voice that had questioned her earlier actions, began to gnaw on her conscience. She knew she had overreacted at first, but that didn't mean she had been wrong, did it? Lily thought of his hurt expression and the flames in her stomach began to cool.

"Lily?" Hearing her name, she looked up, half expecting James' head to be peering round the corner. He'd always had an uncanny ability to find her – especially when she didn't want to be found. To her surprise, however, it wasn't James. "How are you?" asked Matthew Stork, soulful eyes seeking Lily's blazing, emerald ones.

"I'm alright," she lied, smiling weakly at him.

"I saw what happened," he continued, "that James Potter can be a bit of an idiot, huh?" Lily stiffened. Her first instinct had been to defend James, but Matthew was right. He _was_ an idiot.

But so was she.

Lily contented herself with a curt nod, unwilling to betray the internal battle she was fighting. "I take it that there was… there was nothing going on between you two?" This question was enough to jerk Lily out of her silence.

"No!" she exclaimed, feeling slightly shocked. Matthew looked relieved.

"Sorry, I had to check," he mumbled, "but there were rumours, you know?" Lily nodded again, mentally listing the curses she would inflict on anyone she heard spreading rumours about herself and James. Including Mary. "I'm glad," he said warmly, "you deserve better." At this, Lily perked up a bit, although her conscience was pushing her to find James and apologise. Matthew Stork, _the _Matthew Stork, thought she could do better. Her smile brightened.

"Thank you," she said, feeling more cheerful and studiously ignoring her guilt. Matthew really was utterly charming. And attractive. In fact, the way Lily's thoughts were headed, it was probably a good thing that Hazel – the boy banishing owl – wasn't there.

"It was nothing," said Matthew modestly. He leant closer. "I was wondering," he breathed, lips barely an inch from Lily's ear, "would you like to go to Hogsmede with me?"


	10. A Green E'yd Monster

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Sadly, this means I am not J.K. Rowling. Thank you for all your reviews and opinions, it really means a lot that you take the time to write them and you **_**definitely**_** inspire me. So, enjoy! **

For the second time that day, Lily froze.

She had fantasised about this moment for years, accepting, of course, that it could never happen. She was the frizzy-haired ginger for Merlin's sake! Charming boys like Matthew Stork shouldn't even acknowledge her.

But he had.

And so had James.

"I'm really sorry," she stuttered finally, leaning backwards and away from Matthew. "But I just can't, the funeral's tomorrow and…" she stumbled over her words, desperately trying to find an excuse. She had daydreamt about this moment since third year, over-analysing every pitying smile Matthew had thrown her way, but when it finally happened… It wasn't what she wanted.

It wasn't _who _she wanted.

When this shocking realisation hit her, she groaned. Her ridiculous behaviour of the morning suddenly made sense. The little voice had been right.

_Damn it_.

Understandably, Matthew Stork looked slightly aggrieved, but a toothy grin soon replaced his look of surprise. Lily suspected he wasn't used to being rejected.

"That's alright," he said easily, helping her to her feet. "I can wait." Brushing her cheek with a kiss, he strolled down the corridor, confident in his ability to capture Lily's heart. Unconsciously, Lily scrubbed her face with a corner of her sleeve and then chided herself for it. Matthew Stork, _the _Matthew Stork, had asked her out. And she'd said no. Because of James Potter. She had been right, Lily decided. It was always his fault.

Suddenly, Lily realised the full extent of the trouble she faced. She _liked_ James Potter. After six years of constant teasing and flirting, the irascible boy had found a way past her defences. In barely two months.

_Damn it, damn it and damn it, again. _

Lily was not prone to swearing, but was sorely tempted to exhaust her limited repertoire. She told herself, rather belatedly, that there was no reason to panic. It was only a crush, she'd get over it. Trying to calm her breathing, which had somehow reached the level of hyperventilation, she paced the corridor. What should she do? She couldn't fall for James, she couldn't. The helmets belonging to the suits of armour that lined the corridor swivelled as she walked, following her progress.

Finally, Lily stopped. She was never going to act on her feelings for James, that much was obvious. She wouldn't let herself. For that matter, she wasn't sure Sawyer would be too enamoured with the idea either. At the thought of Sawyer, Lily scowled and resumed pacing again.

It was patently obvious, however, that she needed to apologise to James. He wasn't entirely faultless, and his comments about her friendship with Severus were entirely unnecessary, but she had been unwarrantedly vicious. As she replayed the memory in her head, Lily felt ashamed of her words. Her jealousy had torn the thoughts from her head, twisting and distorting them with a savage glee.

She would have to apologise. There was nothing else to say. Even if her new found feelings hadn't compelled her to do so, her conscience would certainly have forced her to. Lily Evans, when all was said and done, had a very keen sense of right and wrong. She tempered it with pity and understanding, but it was present nonetheless. Unfortunately, she judged herself far more harshly than she judged others.

But James was in Hogsmede, arms still wrapped around the beautiful Sawyer, and she had no idea how to find him. She started towards the common room, determined to sit there, waiting – pathetically – for him to return.

Catching sight of her reflection in a particularly shiny suit of armour, a particularly pertinent piece of Shakespeare crossed her mind. She stared at her mirror image, expression wry and quoted softly, "O, beware… of jealousy; it is the green-ey'd monster." After today, the green eyed monster seemed to be a fitting title for Lily, whose emerald eyes still flamed brightly.

With an exasperated snort, Lily continued down the corridor. If she remembered rightly, _Othello _ended in a spectacularly tragic fashion and she had no wish to emulate it. Ramblings pushed firmly aside, she continued up to the seventh floor. The password had not changed since David's death and a muttered "pumpkin pasty" was enough for the portrait to swing open. Clambering through, and ignoring the Fat Lady's concerned comments, she stumped towards the nearest squashy arm chair. Lily threw herself down into it, arms and legs folded tightly. Looking at the clock, Lily's heart sank. It was, despite the eventful nature of the day, barely twelve.

She was in for a long wait.

Wondering if she could convince Mary to bring her food, Lily grabbed a piece of parchment from her bag. She dipped her quill into a jar of colour changing ink and scribbled a hurried note. Marlene's mother worked at the Ministry and had, one summer, taught the three girls the charm needed to create paper aeroplanes. They had used it to communicate ever since. Lily wasn't going to lie, it was highly useful. And it was _so _much easier than leaving her cosy chair.

If Lily didn't know better, she would have suggested that Mary had been waiting for her. Certainly, Mary appeared very promptly. "I wondered when you'd summon me," Mary said, perching on a corner of the sofa. "So," she continued, apparently comfortable, "what did you and James argue about, _this_ time." Her voice betrayed a hint of irritation. "I thought you admitted his prank was funny, Lils."

"It wasn't that," Lily assured her. She proceeded to tell Mary what had happened, carefully omitting any reference to her personal epiphany. She stressed Snape and Mulciber's role in the argument, but admitted she _might _have overreacted to James' actions. Mary laughed at that.

"Might?" she queried. "Merlin, Lily, will you and James ever have a normal relationship?" Ruefully, Lily shook her head and that was a little too much understanding in the look Mary threw her. The redhead had the awful feeling that Mary knew exactly what Lily had neglected to mention.

Not that it was any of her business.

On the other hand, Lily had no problems with Mary's subsequent criticism of the Sawyer-James pairing. "I don't know what he sees in her," she concluded some twenty minutes later, "she's so, so… shallow."

"Mary!" Lily protested, despite sharing the same opinion. She felt obliged to defend people's flaws, it was just the way she was.

"Well she is," replied Mary, "and the sooner James realises this, the better."

"Maybe he's shallow, too?" asked Lily, worried. Mary gave her an unnervingly direct look.

"I think we both know that's not true." She paused for a second, as though collecting her thoughts, "particularly, when certain…" She broke off. "It's McGonagall," Mary hissed. Turning round, reluctant to move from her chair, Lily stared. The bespectacled witch straightened up and looked about the room. To Lily's utmost horror, James was behind her, still clutching a simpering Sawyer. Her heart sank. Was McGonagall going to reprimand her for earlier?

"Girls," said the professor briskly, her eyes finding them, "I have just received word from the Pritchard's that, due to logistics, would like you to come today, rather than tomorrow. I realise," she continued, unaware of Lily's worries, "that this will mean missing the Feast, but I suspect you would rather be with your friend." Her voice choked slightly on the last word and Lily could have sworn she saw her teacher's eyes glisten. People tended to forget, she thought suddenly, that teachers mourned too. She exchanged a look with Mary.

"Yes, Professor," they replied, already getting to their feet. Dashing up the stairs, they threw clothes and other essentials into a bag, using magic to summon the last few items. Lily was certain Mary had never packed so little, so quickly. In her life.

Hurriedly waving her wand, Lily banished the bags downstairs and hurled herself down the stairs, Mary in hot pursuit. To her surprise, James and Sawyer were still standing with McGonagall. The latter, however, paid the couple little attention.

"I have arranged a portkey from the Headmaster's office, but we will need to hurry," the witch said, motioning towards the portrait hole. Picking up their bags, the girls made to follow. Mary sped up, clearly intent on catching up with McGonagall. Lily, on the other hand, stopped in front of James.

"Look, about earlier," she began, rather awkwardly.

"Miss Evans, you will be late," the stern professor called, peering back at her, "I'm sure your conversation with Mr Potter can wait."

"That's ok," said James, his voice painfully polite, "I didn't need to speak with her anyway." His words pierced Lily like a blade, crippling her. He sounded so cold, quite unlike himself. McGonagall looked from her Head Girl to her Head Boy, a hint of confusion – or perhaps, disapproval – barely discernable on her features.

"Come _on_, Lily," Mary called.

And with one heart wrenching gaze, Lily turned away, unable to bear James' stare.

Or her feelings.


	11. A Time To Grieve

**Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling and none of her characters are mine. Sadly. Hopefully, however, you'll enjoy this chapter. Thanks for all your reviews – they really mean the world to me – and a big thank you to Black Rose Blue for being a fabulous beta! **

It was over. She couldn't believe it. After their hasty departure from the castle, time seemed to have slipped away and the funeral had finished before Lily had quite grasped it had begun.

The previous day, Lily had been sure her emotions would keep her from sleeping, but her worries had worn her out and she slept soundly. In no time at all, she had been forced to get ready, their party reaching the little church at midday. Once there, they had sat in neat little rows and listened. They listened as his friends and family talked about the boy they had loved, the boy that had been stolen from them, the boy that would never return. Mary had leant on her shoulder at this point, tears pouring down her face as Lily struggled to contain her own.

And then, quite suddenly, it was done.

Wiping her eyes, Lily stood to her feet. David's funeral service had been deeply poignant, despite the officious manner of the man presiding. The minister, a short, tufty-haired man with a bulging waistcoat, stood down from the lectern and headed towards the door, clasping Mrs Pritchard's hand as he passed. The tiny wizard had conducted the proceedings in a sonorous voice, regularly reminding the congregation of the tragedy they had suffered. As though they needed the reminder, thought Lily sorrowfully, watching Marlene sob into her father's shoulder. He stood there, rigid and unseeing.

Grief, it seemed, affected everyone in different ways.

Turning to Mary, whose eyes were red-rimmed, she gestured wordlessly to the door. She needed to be in the wintry sunshine, to escape the claustrophobic confines of the church. Part of her longed to stay with Marlene, to hold her close, but she could see her friend was in safe hands. Her father had finally unclenched his fists, wrapping his arms around his surviving child and rocking her gently. Both he and his wife seemed to have aged, the lines in their faces more deeply etched. Unable to bear another second, Lily turned away.

Walking swiftly to the exit, and ignoring the impulse to run, she hooked her arm through Mary's and left the little church. It was early November and the temperature was brisk. Despite the lateness of the hour, the frost still glistened on the grass and the red-bricked building stood out amongst the muted colours. It was oddly beautiful.

"What do we do now?" asked Mary, looking marginally more composed.

"I… I don't know." It was true, Lily had no idea. The house had been entirely subdued, robbed of all life and vitality, and she had suffered similar symptoms. Her thoughts had been so miserable that she had tiptoed through the house in a kind of stupor, James' cold face imposed upon the inside of her eyelids. She had barely listened to Mrs Prichard's tearful explanation and, judging by Mary's confusion, her mind had been similarly distracted. Thankfully, help was on hand.

"Lily, Mary!" called a voice from behind them. Lily frowned, she knew that voice. Looking around she saw a young, kind-faced witch coming towards them, towing a tall boy behind her.

"Alice," Lily said in relief. Managing a weak smile, she let Alice embrace her. The elder witch had been several years above them at Hogwarts, but they had struck up an easy friendship. She had, for a brief moment, wondered why they were here. But then, looking from Alice to her boyfriend, she remembered that they were Aurors too.

"The Pritchards asked us to take you back to theirs for the reception," Alice explained, letting go of Lily and examining her critically. "You've lost weight," she noted, sounding concerned.

"Stress," Lily muttered, with a bitter laugh. Alice nodded understandingly.

"We were going to use side-along apparition," she told them briskly, holding out an arm to each of the girls. Catching Lily's enquiring gaze, Alice said, "I know you've passed your test, but Mrs Pritchard told me you were still uncomfortable apparating by yourselves and grief can affect magical ability. So, hold on, ok?" Meekly they grabbed on, used to Alice's decisive temperament. A moment later, they were gone.

It felt as though they were twisting through a tiny tube. Seconds later, although it felt much longer, Lily and Mary tumbled to the ground. Although both had taken apparition tests they were still unused to the experience. Months ago, Lily remembered confiding to Mrs Pritchard that she was still too nervous to apparate on her own. She was touched Marlene's mother had remembered.

Dusting herself off, she stood to her feet. Beside her, Frank Longbottom, the boy Alice had been hauling along, helped Mary stand. As Lily looked around, she realised they were standing outside Marlene's house. Exchanging a look with Mary she strode to the door, which was unlocked and pushed it open. One inspection was enough to inform her that the house, like the church beforehand, was filled to breaking point.

One way or another, David had touched a lot of lives.

Winding their way through clusters of witches and wizards, the three girls and Frank headed towards a vacated corner. They stood in silence for a moment, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Family photos hung on the walls, the embarrassing snaps that parents refuse to take down, and Lily stared blankly at one. Like all wizarding photos, this one was moving and she would guess – if Marlene's hair was anything to go by – that it must have been taken on her first day at Hogwarts. Holding on to David, an adoring expression on her face, she beamed at her brother. He, in turn, grinned back. They looked so happy.

Lily felt a pang of grief. Although her loss was nothing compared to Marlene and her family, she felt as though a tiny hole had been torn in her heart. Gazing at his face, she remembered his kindness and how he had berated those who called her mudblood. Even at school, he had actively fought against the discrimination muggleborns like Lily had faced. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, the world was a poorer place without him. Tears filled her emerald eyes.

Looking at the picture once more, sight blurry, she saw a Head Boy badge glinted on his chest. This reminded her uncomfortably of James. Suddenly, she felt Alice's arms around her again.

"It'll get better," she said softly. For some reason, Lily didn't think she was referring to Lily's grief.

"I hope so," Lily whispered, equally quiet. They stayed like this for a few seconds and then they pulled apart, both stifling sobs. Mary, Lily noticed, was talking with Frank. He seemed to be speaking earnestly, using his hands to gesture expansively.

"It's Voldemort," he said savagely, "yet the Ministry refuses to acknowledge how powerful he has become."

"We'd noticed that the Prophet had stopped reporting," Mary replied, Frank's animation keeping her grief at bay.

"Precisely," Frank exclaimed, drawing scandalised looks from a pair of elderly witches. Alice laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"Frank."

"Right, sorry," he said, lowering his voice. "But you can't deny it, something must be done."

"I'm not denying it, darling," replied Alice, "but I'm not sure a funeral is an appropriate forum, particularly," her voice hardened, "when we don't know who we can trust." She looked significantly round the crowded room. Lily understood the implications, feeling sickened. The idea that a Death Eater could be here, at the funeral of a man who had dedicated his life to stopping Voldemort, was repugnant.

"Whatever you do," said Lily, her determination taking even herself by surprise, "I want to help." Images of David and Severus seemed to float in front of her eyes, banishing the spectre of James. Frank gave her an appraising look. She didn't know him as well as she knew Alice, but she recognised him as a good man.

"I'll remember that." The words issued from Frank's mouth quietly, but there was a definite sense of approval accompanying them. Lily nodded mutely. Her outburst had scared her slightly. Her hatred of Voldemort – and all he stood for – had simmered since David's death. That night in the common room had been a telling one and she was irrevocably changed. In more ways than one, she thought sadly, James' actions fresh in her mind. He had been so understanding and supportive, yet she hadn't fully appreciated him. Mentally, Lily kicked herself. There was no point dwelling on James, until she returned to Hogwarts there was little she could do to change things. What she could, and _should_, be doing was paying her respects to David and his family.

Try as she might, however, she couldn't forget his cold expression. It refused to leave her, even when the other guests did. And when she comforted Marlene that night, staying with until she fell asleep, his was the face that haunted her dreams.


	12. Behind Closed Doors

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and I do not own her work. On a brighter note, I just wanted to say a very big thank you to my beta BlackRoseBlue and all those lovely people who have reviewed/alerted/favourited/read this story, I can't tell you how much it means. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

The following evening, Lily, Mary and a still tearful Marlene returned to Hogwarts. The portkey Professor Dumbledore had arranged landed them in his beautiful office and they stumbled on impact. Having been there only a handful of times, Lily could not help but gawk at the room. The high arches and creamy brick work had a delicate simplicity, complimenting the whirring and eclectic nature of the various instruments and books that littered the wooden shelves. If she had had the time, Lily would have happily spent several hours in that room, examining its glittering treasures.

"Miss Evans?" A calm voice interrupted her reverie. Unbeknownst to her, Dumbledore had appeared from another room. "I take it," he said quietly, blue eyes twinkling, "that you were planning on following your friends?" Registering his words, Lily turned to see Mary and Marlene heading towards the door.

"We were wondering the same thing, Professor," said Mary, rolling her eyes. Lily was mildly surprised at Mary's audacity; she would never have dared to make such a comment in her elderly Headmaster's presence. However, Dumbledore chuckled slightly.

"Then I shall not keep her," he concluded lightly, "despite her obvious interest in my office." Lily blushed. Scuttling to the spiral staircase, which Mary and Marlene had already begun to descend, she made to leave. "Remember, Miss Evans," said Dumbledore, smiling benignly at her, "my door is always open." Much like her conversation with Alice, Lily had the distinct impression that his comment held layered meanings. Surely her preoccupation wasn't that obvious? _Merlin_, it was only a crush. Wasn't it?

With an uncertain nod – and some very confused thoughts – she left the Headmaster's office. The issue of James, which she had been so unsuccessful at ignoring, rose to the surface of her mind again. Should she find him, she wondered, twisting her hands absentmindedly as she walked. Catching up with Mary and Marlene, she linked her arms with theirs. Thankfully, their bags had been sent to the dormitories, or her gesture would have been very difficult. As it was, they wondered comfortably along, Mary managing to elicit a weak smile from Marlene. Desperately seeking a topic which _didn't _involve David, the blonde had told Marlene of the Marauders' latest prank. The latter wasn't exactly rolling on the floor with laughter, but her face had lightened.

"Of course," said Mary, looking at Lily with a mixture of exasperation and pity, "_someone_ had to go and have a blazing row with James". Lily blanched, trying to regain her composure. If she had decided anything, it was that _no one_ could know of her feelings for James. Sooner or later, they would pass. She hoped.

"Oh, Lils," said Marlene, looking concerned, "what was it about this time?" Despite her resolution, Lily couldn't help but waver. This was the closest Marlene had come to normality all week, and she was loathe to disrupt this. She feared that Marlene's perceptive nature would see through her half-hearted lies, but one look at her friend's wan face reassured her. Although David's funeral – and the return to Hogwarts – seemed to have afforded Marlene the beginnings of closure, she was not foolish enough to expect Marlene's recovery to be immediate. She thought, for a while at least, she could avoid telling Marlene the truth.

Haltingly, she told her friend about the fight she'd had with James. Much like her conversation with Mary, she tried to emphasise Severus' unwitting role in all of this. "It wasn't really Severus' fault," she conceded, "but his presence was enough to set James off, you know they've never had an easy relationship." Mary's subsequent snort reminded her that this was the understatement of the century. "Fine," Lily said, "they _hate_ each other. Happy, Mary?"

"Moderately," came the quick reply. Lily narrowed her eyes dangerously and prepared a suitably scathing retort. Marlene, ever the peacemaker, intervened.

"Are… are you going to talk to him?" she faltered, looking Lily in the eye for the first time since David's death. The redhead sighed, trying to ignore her jangling thoughts.

"Yes," she said heavily, "in fact, I'm going to apologise." Reaching the portrait hole and muttering the password, Lily turned to see Mary's mouth fall open. _Honestly_. "Well," continued Lily fairly, "I did overreact and he _was_ trying to help, even if he was an utter idiot about it." She neglected to mention the hurt that appeared in his hazel eyes, the way he had thrown past events in her face. They didn't need to talk about that.

Preoccupied by their reaction, Lily took a second to realise the portrait hadn't swung open. "Pumpkin pasty," she said again.

"I'm afraid, my dear, that the password's changed," said the Fat Lady, tone apologetic. Lily silently cursed. This was the last thing she needed, particularly when Marlene looked dead on her feet. As Lily had already observed, she was still fragile.

To her relief, she heard footsteps pounding the stone floor behind them. Turning, she was pleased to see Remus. Panting slightly, he choked out a greeting.

"McGonagall sent me," he wheezed, "she realised you didn't know the new password." Touched by her professor's thoughtfulness, she smiled gratefully at Remus.

"Thanks," Mary said, gesturing at the Fat Lady, "lead the way, maestro." Before Remus could oblige, however, Lily was seized by a sudden impulse.

"Do you know where James is?" she asked the Gryffindor. The sandy-haired boy hesitated.

"Yeah," he said uncertainly, blue eyes nervous, "he's in the Astronomy Tower…" But he got no further. Shooting her friends a pleading look, Lily took off, her feet beating the same noise that Remus' had.

"Wait, Lily… WAIT!" The Marauder sounded desperate, but Lily didn't care. She knew, with an unerring certainty, that she had to see James, had to apologise. It couldn't wait. Veering round a corner, and narrowly avoiding a pair of kissing Hufflepuffs, she broke into a sprint. Red hair flying behind her, she dashed up several flights of stairs. She was so intent on her task that she even ignored Peeves. Narrowly avoiding his attempt to push an excruciatingly ugly bust on her head, she carried on.

Finally, and deeply out of breath, she reached the door of the Astronomy Tower. Taking a moment to compose herself, she unconsciously ruffled her hair. Filled with an unexpected apprehension she paused, one hand resting on the handle. It suddenly occurred to her, as jumbled as her thoughts were, that she had never initiated an apology to James before. Sure, they had bickered and then resumed a cordial dislike, but she had never cared enough to cease hostilities. Indeed, now she came to think of it, it was always _James_ who made the first move towards reconciliation.

Perfect.

Fighting to get her breathing and nerves under control, Lily opened the door with lightning speed. Rather like removing a plaster, she felt it was something that had to be done quickly. Cautiously, she began to ascend the stairs, ears pricked. With an additional burst of trepidation, she realised that she had no idea what James was doing here. Her question, however, was soon answered.

"Oh, James." Lily's heart stopped. She knew that voice.

"Yes, Sawyer?"

"I was wondering…" Sawyer's voice dropped to a whisper and Lily had difficulty making out her next few words. Unfortunately, they were accompanied by a nauseating giggle which made Lily's skin crawl. With a sinking feeling, she realised what Remus had been trying to tell her.

Sawyer was with James.

James was with Sawyer.

Whichever way you said it, the facts were incontrovertible. James and Sawyer were up here – alone – and, remembering the tower's reputation, it took little imagination to guess what they were planning to do. Face flaming as red as her hair, Lily turned, trying to ignore the tears burning in her eyes. Her earlier words flashed across her mind.

_It was only a crush_.

Somehow, that wasn't very comforting. At that moment in time, Lily wanted nothing better than to return to her dormitory, pull the curtains around her four poster, and sob. Fate, however, seemed to have other designs.

Lily, paying little attention to her surrounding, felt her feet catch on something. With an unholy shriek, she fell down the stairs, grazing her arms and legs on the rough stonework and landing in her heap. Curled in a defensive ball, she slowly untangled herself, wincing as her limbs protested at their poor treatment.

"Are you… Lily?" Her eyes, which had been tightly scrunched shut, flew open. To her utter mortification, James Potter stood there, his tone of concern replaced with one of shock. She stared back, temporarily lost for words. James' expression began to harden, but he nevertheless offered her a grudging hand.

"Are you alright?" he tried again, brusque.

"I, I think so."

"Good." He made to climb the stairs.

"Wait, James," Lily grabbed his sleeve. She felt a bit shocked by her desperation and James, too, appeared nonplussed. Certainly, he stopped.

"What?"

"It's just…" She was finding this difficult. "I'm sorry," she finished, refusing to meet his eye.

"You're, you're sorry?" James sounded unnervingly flat.

"Yes," she said, and then decided she might as well do the thing properly. "For how I acted yesterday, I shouldn't have been so angry, I shouldn't have…" To her surprise, James placed a finger on her lips and she felt shivers down her spine. His cold demeanour had begun to thaw and he almost smiled.

"I get it," he said, removing his hand when he was sure she had stopped babbling. She nodded mutely at him. "I know that Sniv-Snape, meant a lot to you and I should have remembered that. And," his mouth betrayed the beginnings of a smirk, "I know that you're truly sorry."

"How?"

"You actually _apologised_ to me," he said, openly grinning now. "It's a day for the history books, this one. The day that Lily Evans apologised to James Potter."

"Shut up, Potter," she retorted, but there was no malice in her tone. The relief she felt was too strong. He had forgiven her and that was all that mattered. The world was suddenly better.

Or so she thought.

Out of nowhere, a tall brunette flung herself at James.

"I was so worried," Sawyer simpered, clutching at the boy.

"Yeah, well…" he looked slightly awkward. Catching sight of Lily, Sawyer smiled widely, falsely.

"Was it you who made that racket?" Lily noted there was no concern in her voice.

"Yeah," she said, sounding as awkward as James looked.

"Well, you look fine to me," Sawyer smiled, stroking James' arm in what Lily thought was an unnecessarily possessive gesture. "But, I think the best thing for you would be an early night," she continued, affecting kindness, "don't you agree, James?" He tilted his head slightly. Taking this as agreement, Sawyer turned to Lily. "Night," she trilled.

"Goodnight," echoed Lily. Walking away slowly, she looked back. To her disgust, Sawyer had pulled James to her, initiating a heavy and ostentatious kiss.

Eyes blurring with tears, Lily tore them away from this sight. Without a backwards glance, she fled the scene, her heart aching.

Jealousy, the cruellest of masters, had her under his spell. And Lily hated it.


	13. Tensions and Talking

**Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling and I don't own her characters. This chapter drove me mad but I've finally sorted it out – so I hope you enjoy it! Massive thanks, as always, to my lovely beta BlackRoseBlue. **

In the weeks leading up to the Christmas holidays, Lily made a valiant effort to avoid James. However, with the best will in the world, it was very difficult for the Head Girl to ignore her Head Boy. To a certain extent, Lily had managed to compartmentalise her new-found feelings for James. Certainly, her blushes were becoming less noticeable. That didn't mean, however, that the issue had gone away.

Far from it.

Sharing a dormitory with Sawyer – never a pleasant experience – had reached new levels of torture. Hearing Sawyer gush about James to Eliza Murphy was driving Lily mad. It was bad enough watching them walk hand-in-hand down corridors, but _listening _to a narrated account? Horrendous.

Lily's only consolation, if you could call it that, derived from Sawyer's dissatisfaction with James' attentiveness. The latter was frequently complaining about James' infatuation with Quidditch.

"Sometimes," she wailed pitifully to Eliza, "I think he'd rather date a Snitch!"

"Well," muttered Mary, annoyed with Sawyer's incessant chatter, "he's certainly dating something that rhymes with one." Lily and Marlene snorted into their pillows at this, stifling their giggles. Twirling a red curl around her finger, Lily watched Marlene's face contort with mirth. Although pallid, her friend had finally begun to emerge from her cocoon of misery.

In fact, her brief instances of laughter were like a ray of sunshine. Despite the relative safety of the castle, reports of deaths still filtered through the school network. Tensions were running high and some of the younger students seemed close to tears. Most mornings, the owls would bring a flurry of post and the contrast between their worry-filled letters and the _Prophet's_ calm reassurances were striking.

"Well," Sirius said grimly one day, throwing the paper aside, "looks like Voldemort has control of the news, too. When do you think the Ministry will fall?" He sounded frighteningly matter-of-fact.

"Sirius!" said Peter, shocked.

"Don't be an idiot, Wormy," Sirius shot back, eyes flickering towards the Slytherin table. Lily suspected he was looking for his brother. Rumours had recently begun to circulate about Regulus' allegiances, none of them good. Sirius' brusque tone was simply an expression of his anger – and guilt. But Peter looked hurt nonetheless. "He's getting more powerful everyday and no one seems to be doing a damn thing about it!" The older Black's voice began to rise and Lily shushed him.

"Sirius," she hissed, looking round the crowded Great Hall, "remember where you are." Alice's paranoia, so clearly evident at David's reception, had resonated with Lily. Like Frank, Sirius looked put out by the reprimand. But he accepted the wisdom of Lily's words. With a curt nod, he sunk into gloomy silence. Desperate to change the conversation, Lily cast about for a lighter topic. Before she could implement a light-hearted discussion about Christmas plans, however, James spoke up.

"So," he said brightly, "by how many points are we going to trounce Hufflepuff?" Lily gazed at him with barely concealed despair. Quidditch? Really? Maybe Sawyer was right, he _was_ obsessed. Surprisingly, though, this appeared to be just the thing.

"Oh, by about two hundred," said Sirius lazily, expression lighting up.

"Only two hundred? Padfoot, I'm hurt!" But James was smirking. They continued in the vein for some minutes, even Remus determined to have his say. By the time Sirius loudly denounced the Hufflepuff Quidditch team as a bunch of useless badgers, all thoughts of Voldemort had been banished. Indeed, the murderous expression on the faces of several Hufflepuffs appeared to be a more immediate danger. Rolling her eyes, Lily breathed a word that girls had used for centuries.

"_Boys_."

Whatever Lily's feelings towards Quidditch, however, the upcoming match certainly provided a focus point for all the tensions bubbling beneath the surface. Repeatedly, her duties as Head Girl forced her to break up fights. Slytherin and Gryffindor were the worse culprits, despite the fact they weren't playing each other. Indeed, relations got so bad that James called an emergency prefect meeting the week before the match.

"Look," he said bluntly, reminding Lily irresistibly of their conversation on the Hogwarts' Express, "I appreciate that inter-house camaraderie has never been spectacular, but this has to stop. Beyond these walls, war rages. You know that as well as I, despite the _Prophet's _half-hearted attempts to prove otherwise. We cannot sink to that level, no matter how we feel."

"But, James," exclaimed a sixth year Gryffindor, "those slimy snakes are all in league with You-Know-Who. They support a murderer!" With a hiss, the group of Slytherin prefects stood. Despite the situation, the irony that they had made a noise so commonly associated with Higgins' insult was not lost on Lily.

"Higgins," James said, "that is exactly the kind of attitude we _don't _want." He threw an uneasy look at Severus, who scowled at him with barely concealed loathing. "Not all Slytherins are evil, just…" He stopped, struggling for words.

"Cheers, Potter," muttered a Slytherin, "thanks for the ringing endorsement." But he looked less angry.

"What James _means_ to say," Lily added, avoiding Severus' eye, "is that this war is bigger than petty house rivalries. No matter your house, you all have to ability to choose right from wrong." There were a few murmurs of assent and the odd grumble of acceptance. Seizing her chance, she continued with more confidence. "We said this at the start of the year and I will say it again. If I see any instance of duelling, particularly amongst the prefects, I will ensure that the culprits are punished. Regardless of house," she added, glaring at Higgins. Her temper, always so close to the surface, was flaring. The unfortunate Higgins shrunk in his seat, her blazing eyes and flaming hair presenting an imposing sight.

As more than one student had remarked, it was easy to forget that Lily Evans was tiny when she glared at you like that.

James allowed a smirk to briefly grace his features and then continued with the rest of the meeting. It was a subdued affair, suspicion evident on all sides, but Lily and James felt they had achieved a slight improvement. At the very least, Higgins wasn't going to be any more trouble. The Gryffindor had scurried out the room as soon as humanly possible, wilting under Lily's gaze.

Revelling in the peace, Lily stretched luxuriously and yawned. It had been a particularly tiring couple of weeks and she was looking forward to an early night. She realised that James was looking at her. "What?" she asked, curious.

"I was just reliving Higgins' fear," he replied, smiling broadly. "He's always been an idiot, so it's nice to see him taken down a peg or two." Lily nodded. She was suddenly aware this was the first time they'd been alone – truly alone – since that night in the Astronomy Tower. Reddening slightly, she found herself seeking a new topic of conversation.

"So, when do you fancy putting up the Christmas decorations?"

"Christmas decorations?"

"Yeah, those things the Marauders hex with frightening regularity." James smiled slightly.

"Well, I hex so many things, they tend to blur together…" She laughed, before regaining a slightly more purposeful look.

"How about tomorrow?"

"I… I can't." He looked strangely furtive.

"Why?" asked Lily, thinking of Sawyer. Her heart sank a little. When he seemed disinclined to answer, her temper got the better of her.

"Are you seeing Sawyer?" she asked, tone easily as brusque as Sirius' had been. James appeared blindsided.

"Oh, no."

"Well, what then?"

"I have… Quidditch practice." The tightening in Lily's heart loosened a bit, although his hesitancy seemed odd. The match was scheduled for the following weekend and she knew, from her own experiences and Sawyer's bitter gossip, that James was desperate to do well. It was irritating that it came before Head Boy duties, but she'd learnt to accept that.

"Actually," said James, "it's not going so well with Sawyer." He watched her intently as he said this, gauging her reaction. Lily's heart, temporarily frozen, leapt into her throat.

"Why?" she asked, keeping her voice steady.

"I don't know." He seemed, Lily noted, disconsolate. Despite her own feelings, she realised he needed a friend's advice.

"Have you tried talking to her?"

"Talking to her?" _Merlin_, were all boys this obtuse?

"Yes." Lily kept her answers monosyllabic. She couldn't believe she was doing this. Obviously, she suffered from a form of masochism. Absently, she fiddled with the leather cover of the chair, glancing round the room. Light fell through the mullioned windows, casting shadows over James' face. She couldn't quite see his expression and was quite glad of it. It was much easier to give him relationship advice when she couldn't see those hazel eyes.

"And that'll work?" There was something in James' voice which was hard to identify.

"If the relationship is worth saving."

There was a long pause.

"I think…" James shook his head, as though trying to clear it. "I think I'll try it." Standing up, he tousled her hair and headed towards the door. As he reached it, he turned back.

"Lils?" The redhead tried to ignore the thrill this sent through her, the way she felt when he said her name.

"Yes?"

"I'm glad we're friends." Again, there was something unidentifiable about his tone. He stood there for one last second. And then he left, without waiting for her reply.

"Me, too," she whispered to the empty room, "I just wish… I wish we were more." One of the portraits gave her a concerned look, clearly perturbed that she was talking to herself. The elderly warlock, wearing a ludicrously patterned set of robes, weaved through a host of paintings to whisper in the ear of a satin-wearing witch. That was all she needed, thought Lily with great sarcasm. Knowing the occupants of the castle's artwork, the rumour that Lily Evans was going mad would be common currency by tomorrow.

"Oh, well," Lily told herself bracingly, "they probably suspected already."


	14. Armour and Amore

**Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling and these characters are not mine. Sadly. It's been a fairly horrific week, but I've managed to write the chapter – even if it was being very awkward. Hopefully, however, you'll enjoy it! Any reviews are, as always, very gratefully received. Massive thanks to BlackRoseBlue for her wonderful beta skills and to all the wonderful people who have reviewed, I love you all! **

In other circumstances, Lily would have been relieved that her earlier predictions were wrong.

As it was, she would have preferred the rumour mongering.

Sirius Black had, for reasons best known to himself, decided to charm every suit of armour to catcall, wolf whistle and generally heckle every non-Gryffindor who passed. Amongst themselves, the Gryffindors found this highly amusing, particularly when the suits began to sing reworded nursery rhymes. Although she wore a disapproving expression Lily knew, in her heart of hearts, that she would treasure the memory of a tarnished helmet singing an adapted version of "Baa, Baa Black Sheep" to a scowling Avery.

"_Ha, ha, Avery, aren't you such a fool? Yes sir, yes sir, worst in school. The largest nose, the biggest head and we bet this made you red…"_ Unable to bear anymore, Avery beat a hasty retreat. The normally composed Slytherin was blushing and he covered his face with his hands. As he went, he threw a particularly nasty hex at the serenading metalwork, fully intending to destroy it. Most unfortunately, Sirius had made the armour impervious to other spells and his curse rebounded. Besides his blushes, Avery now sported a hideously enlarged head and Sirius' guffaws only added to his woes.

Ruefully, Lily realised that her lecture had been directed at the wrong students. Although the prefects were far from innocent, the ringleader in chief was evidently Sirius Black.

So, as funny as some of the rhymes were, Lily resolved to talk to Sirius. She needed him, for once, to set an example. Remembering the tensions which had simmered during the prefects' meeting, she knew that things were reaching boiling point. The thought of Avery's curse was enough to wipe the smirk off her face. After his vicious attack on Mary, she knew that Avery's knowledge of the Dark Arts was not lacking. If he'd used a worse spell he might have done himself, or someone in the vicinity, serious injury. Squaring her shoulders, Lily looked for the source of Sirius' laughter. However, he had already disappeared.

Perhaps wisely, Sirius managed to evade Lily until dinner. She had scoured the castle all day and was, grudgingly, impressed at his ability to avoid her. However, there were very few things that got between Sirius and his food and it was, with some relief, that she found him shovelling potatoes at the Gryffindor table. Tapping her foot, she poked him.

Hard.

"What?" asked Sirius, affecting a look of puzzled innocence. Lily scowled slightly, unimpressed by his feeble attempt at lying. Sirius realised he had been rumbled. "Oh, Lillian," he cried, throwing himself at her feet.

"Lily," she corrected automatically, used to his ridiculous antics and experiencing a sense of déjà vu. It brought to mind the day he had convinced her to use his first name. She certainly felt similar levels of embarrassment at the sight of Sirius Black prostrate on the floor in front of her. On some level, however, she rather enjoyed being bowed to. If nothing else, it did wonders for her self esteem. Suppressing her inner tyrant, she turned her attention back to Sirius.

"I was simply trying to spread a bit of inter-house unity," he sniffed. At this, Lily let out an unladylike snort.

"Pardon?"

"Well, I hexed _all_ the other houses!" Lily looked unconvinced.

"And how," she asked, "does that help?"

"Now," said Sirius, as though it was patently obvious, "they're united by their suffering". He sprung to his feet, nodding in satisfaction and grinning broadly. Shaking her red tresses, Lily stared at him in bemusement. Only Sirius, she concluded wryly, would consider _that_ logic. There was a reason he'd struggled with Arithmancy. She opened her mouth again, intending to tell him as much, but the Marauder's instinct for self preservation had apparently kicked in. Nimbly snatching a tray of lamb, he danced from the Great Hall, drawing the bemused stares of many students.

Lily rolled her eyes and pulled a plate of pie towards her. Pie _always_ made things better. "Maybe," she said to Peter, who was sitting on her left, "the Quidditch practice tonight will help clear his head. Failing that, a bludger could confine him to the hospital wing for a few days. Either works for me." Across the table, Mary giggled and even Marlene managed a dry sort of chuckle. To her surprise, Peter didn't seem amused. On the contrary, his eyebrows had drawn together in confusion.

"But they don't have Quidditch practi- ouch!" Lily stared. If her eyes were not mistaken, _mild_ Remus had just elbowed Peter in the ribs. With a glower, Remus stood to his feet and, muttering a hasty goodbye to the girls, dragged him from the Great Hall.

"What on earth," muttered Mary, "was _that_ about?" She looked curiously at Lily. "Where did you get the idea that there was Quidditch practice tonight?" She stared after the two Marauders, concerned by Remus' uncharacteristic behaviour. Marlene, on the other hand, looked at Lily

"James," answered Lily automatically. To all intents and purposes, she appeared calm, but inside, her thoughts were in turmoil. Had James _lied_ to her? The sting of betrayal was brutal.

"Are you alright," Marlene asked, looking at Lily's pale features. When Lily didn't answer, the brunette reached across the table and grasped Lily's hand. "I'm sure he didn't lie to you on _purpose_." Lily glanced at her friend wondering, as she often had, whether Marlene was a secret Legilimens. Sometimes, that girl was _too_ perceptive. She had tried to hide her feelings for James but she suspected that Marlene had some suspicions. Unfortunately. On several occasions, she had caught her friend watching the Heads with a pensive expression. Merlin, she hoped Marlene knew nothing. Thankfully, it was entirely obvious that Mary was oblivious.

Bless her.

"You probably misheard him," Mary said confidently.

"Yeah," Lily replied, her uncertainty suppressed. However, while Mary returned to her dinner with gusto, Marlene threw her another sympathetic glance.

Damn, she _definitely_ suspected.

Suddenly, the room felt too hot. Confronted by the painful reality that pie was unable to solve all her problems, Lily pushed her plate away. "I've got to… finish Binns' essay," she improvised wildly, twirling a curl around her finger in agitation. Abruptly, she stood to her feet.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Marlene called, catching Lily's arm again. The redhead nodded and headed for the doors, determined to escape the confines of the Great Hall. In some recess of her mind, Lily heard Mary shout a hasty plea.

"Can I copy it when you're done?" Rolling her eyes slightly, despite her preoccupation, Lily continued through the doors and into the Entrance Hall. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going, but she needed time with her thoughts. Although Mary and Marlene had offered plausible explanations, Lily knew the truth. He _had _lied to her. His slight hesitation had roused her suspicions at the time and she, idiotically, had ignored the warning signs.

Striding down the corridor, fists clenched, Lily reviewed the facts. He had been uneasy when she asked about Sawyer, but she had attributed that to their failing relationship. Maybe he _was_ meeting her after all. Heart sinking, Lily realised that she only had James' word that his relationship with Sawyer was rocky. But why would he lie? Unless…

"Unless he knows I like him," Lily whispered to an empty corridor. She swayed alarmingly and slid down a wall. Arms wrapped around her knees, she let the dread and humiliation overcome her. He couldn't know, could he? And if he did, the James she knew would never mock her about it. Would he? Doubt flooded her mind. As a few angry tears slid down her face, Lily realised she had no definitive answer to her questions. What she would have done next is anyone's guess, but the Fates decided to intervene.

"Talking to yourself, Evans?" drawled a familiar voice. Fully convinced that the irritating little warlock from the painting had returned to taunt her, Lily looked up and repaired a blistering riposte. However, her scathing reply died on her lips as she realised, with mounting fear, that this was no piece of artwork.

For what sort of artwork would point a wand in her face?


	15. Pain Beyond Words

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I just like to play with her characters. A massive thank you to my wonderful beta BlackRoseBlue and to all those who have favourited/reviewed/alerted this story – it means so much for me and I love you all! If you have a moment, any reviews are very (very!) gratefully received. So, without further ado, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy!**

Heart racing, Lily looked at the wand's owner. To her horror, it was Avery; flunked by a crowd of students and looking confident, his earlier embarrassment seemed forgotten. Certainly, his customary arrogance had returned.

"I said," repeated Avery, revelling in the appreciative sniggers of his companions, "talking to yourself, Evans?" Lily scowled, emerald eyes flashing with anger. She was aware that the spectators' robes were not limited to the colours of Slytherin, despite Higgins' declaration at the prefect meeting, and grimly wondered whether this was what Dumbledore had intended with his pleas for inter house unity. She had allowed her preoccupation with James to cloud her judgement and she felt a twinge of regret at her failure to notice the threat she faced as the Muggle-born Head Girl of Hogwarts. Although she had been deflecting weak hexes all year, she hadn't truly believed that they would dare to openly corner her. However, she had more pressing matters to deal with than her own stupidity.

"Well, it's not as though you're offering stimulating conversation," she retorted, letting frustration infuse her tone. Avery visibly recoiled at her words. Unlike some of his followers, he knew an insult when he heard one. He sneered at her, brandishing his wand threateningly and with great exaggeration. His next words were similarly unsubtle.

"As if I'd willingly talk to a Mudblood."

"Funny," replied Lily coolly, "but you appear to be talking to one, now. How's that working out for you?" She met his glare determinedly, matching it's ferocity.

"Oh, I wasn't planning on _talking_ for much longer." He moved a little closer, leering at Lily in a way that made her distinctly uncomfortable. Pressed against the wall, Lily had to admit, although she showed no outward sign, that the inflection unnerved her. What was Avery going to do?

To her horror, her question was soon answered.

Rolling up his sleeves, Avery glanced at his cronies and said, "Let's see how Potter and his precious friends react after _this_." With a flash of understanding, Lily realised that Avery was punishing James for his comments and withering putdowns during their prefect meetings. She was just collateral damage. With as much venom as she could muster, Lily spat in Avery's face and attempted to draw her wand.

It was moments like this which proved why Lily Evans suited the red and gold of Gryffindor, despite her protestations that it clashed with her hair.

But it wasn't enough.

With lightning speed, Avery drew his wand. She did not hear the words he uttered, but the pain that blossomed was unmistakeable. Lily felt her muscles begin to spasm and, far away, she heard echoing screams. _Her_ screams. She bit her lip, desperate to stop the whimpers escaping her. She would not let them see her broken. Lily tried to cling onto consciousness, but there was a blackness creeping through her thoughts and sight. It was agony beyond agony. She heard Avery mutter something and the pain seemed to double. Now, she felt as though her very soul was burning. Red hot flames seemed to be licking her skin, turning her bones to ash, yet there wasn't a single burn marring her porcelain skin.

Thrashing on the stone floor, Lily tried to regain control of her flailing limbs. It was hopeless. The pain was slowly stripping her of self control and, in some dark recess of her mind, she wondered whether Avery was going to stop. Suddenly, her heart leapt. Tears were streaming down her face and her sight was bleary, but she was certain that she had seen the robes of Gryffindor.

"Help me," she pleaded, forcing the words from her lips.

But no one helped her. The Gryffindor, whoever it was, simply stood there. As the minutes passed, Lily lost all track of time. Avery's curse was raging through her body, the flames acquiring a shocking intensity. Her fear, suppressed during the original onslaught, began to rear its ugly head. She had read about the effects of prolonged pain on the human mind and knew the madness it could bring. In desperation, she focused upon the memories of those she loved. The faces of Marlene and Mary swam in front of her, hiding Avery's poisonous sneer from view. Soon, they were joined by Sirius, Remus and Peter. She hadn't realised, until that moment, how successfully the Marauders had infiltrated her life. They seemed to form a fragile wall around her mind, protecting her failing sanity. They couldn't, however, stop the pain. She felt as though fiery tendrils were entwining themselves within her shaking frame.

It was agony.

Her grasp on her friends' faces began to weaken. The blackness crept closer.

And then she thought of James. Unlike the others, she didn't see his face. But a sense of his presence seemed to course through her. In that moment, it was all she knew. He felt tangible, in a way that the stone corridor did not. _Help me_, she thought.

_Help me, James_.

The words became a mantra, growing louder and louder within her mind. Dimly, Lily was aware that the jeers had stopped. Instead, panicked whispers filled the corridor. "Someone's coming!" shouted a trembling voice. The noise of footsteps echoed off the walls and the crowd began to disperse. Avery spared her one last glare, flicking his wand at her face. Her limbs stopped twitching, but agonising flares of pain continued to assail her.

"Until next time, Mudblood," Avery hissed. With an oddly satisfied smile, Avery performed another wrist movement. Instantly, Lily felt her mouth close and, for a second, she struggled to breathe. "You won't be telling anyone anything," he smirked, "and if you try, it won't just be your voice you lose." Breaking into a sprint, Avery left her trembling body. The darkness, which Lily had fought with all her strength, gathered momentum. She almost welcomed it. But as she felt herself slide into blessed unconsciousness, she heard a voice calling her name.

"Lily. Merlin, Lily!" Someone was cradling her to their chest, stroking her hair and desperately checking her pulse. "Stay with me, Lils," a voice cried, anguish evident in every syllable, "I've got you. It's going to be alright."

The sense of security Lily had felt earlier enveloped her and, as she drifted into temporary oblivion, she knew she was safe.

For now.


	16. Speechless

**Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling and her wonderful characters are not mine. Sadly. **

**I just want to say a big thank you to my fantastic beta BlackRoseBlue (who writes some equally fantastic stories that you should definitely check out!) and to everyone who has reviewed/favourited/alerted this story – I love you all. It makes me insanely happy that **_**Hearts and Hazelnuts**_** has nearly reached 60 alerts and, if you need an incentive, metaphorical chocolate chip cookies will be awarded to the 50****th**** reviewer ;) Regardless, I hope you enjoy this chapter! **

Lily stirred. She could hear voices above her, overlapping whispers permeating the fog that surrounded her brain. For a moment, she felt disorientated. Where was she? Blearily, she opened her eyes and attempted to move.

This was a mistake.

She felt as though a hundred tiny knives had pierced her skin. Her limbs were aching and every movement brought fresh waves of pain. Panicking, she opened her eyes wider still, ignoring the sting of bright light, and examined her surroundings. To her surprise, she found herself in the hospital wing. No stranger to accidents, Lily had spent many hours in this part of the castle and was used to the airy room. But what was she doing there? Casting her mind back, Lily sorted through her hazy memories. They were disconcertingly blurry. Brief snatches of conversation floated through her mind. She remembered fleeing the Great Hall, unnerved by Marlene's perceptive gaze and James' apparent lies. She sifted through the memories, tracing her path through the castle. Quite suddenly, her heart stopped. Avery's leering face had drifted to the forefront of her memories and she focused on it. Images began to flood her brain and she almost recoiled, repelled by what she saw.

He had tortured her.

It was as though she was watching an old-fashioned film; the images were murky, flickering as they passed from scene to scene. Inside her head, she saw Avery raise his wand and felt, once more, the agonising pain that his movement had caused. Again, she experienced the sensation of flailing limbs and muscles that broke into spasm. She barely registered Madam Pomfrey's voice, but it was enough to break through her reverie.

"Lily?"

Wrenching herself away from her memories, Lily looked at the concerned face of the school nurse. Not trusting herself to speak, Lily nodded mutely. She was still shaking. She didn't know if it was an after effect of the curse, or merely her own fear. Regardless, she was comforted by the feel of Madam Pomfrey's hand in hers. Clutching it tightly, she stared at the nurse.

"How are you feeling, dear?" asked Pomfrey. Through their entwined hands, Lily could feel the nurse's fingers were trembling and her worry was palpable, despite her brisk tone. Lily gave a tiny shrug. For some reason, she was terrified to speak. Avery's parting threat was ringing in her ears and her mouth felt oddly sore. "Well, you've certainly been through an ordeal." Sliding her wand from her pocket, Madam Pomfrey began a series of charms. Automatically, Lily flinched. Noticing her reaction, Pomfrey clucked sympathetically. However, this did not prevent her from continuing her check up. Lily had no idea what the charms were telling her, but the nurse's face grew darker. It was not an emotion one often associated with Madam Pomfrey, but her expression was furious and her movements became increasingly jerky. As she watched her warily, the full horror of her situation began to dawn on Lily. Tears began to flow silently down her cheeks. Finishing her inspection, Pomfrey's gaze returned to Lily. Without warning, she held the young girl, allowing her to cry on her stiffly starched uniform. In her right mind, Lily would have been shocked at this display of affection. But Lily was not in her right mind and the matron's embrace was accepted without a qualm.

Finally, once her original sobs had subsided, Madam Pomfrey released the Head Girl. "I'm afraid," she said thickly, "that I cannot let you rest. The Headmaster was most insistent that I summon him when you awoke." She sniffed disapprovingly. "I tried to stop him, but when Albus decides upon a course of action, well." Muttering to herself, she waved her wand and a silvery patronus slunk out of the room. In the intervening minutes, she continued to fuss, tucking Lily's sheets in and smoothing back her hair. Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long.

Albus Dumbledore swept into the hospital wing, silvery bead streaming in his wake. Right behind him, face taut with anger, was Professor McGonagall. Lily watched, with barely concealed apprehension, as they strode through the room. The Headmaster looked more serious than Lily had ever seen him and the twinkle in his eyes had deadened. Conjuring a pair of squishy armchairs, Dumbledore sat in one. On his left, McGonagall mirrored his action. Her Head of House was clenching her fists and worry was etched upon her face. Dumbledore's emotions were more difficult to read, yet there was an aura of power emanating from the wizard which suggested great anger. Fixing her with a steady gaze, he began to speak. "I understand it will be difficult," he said slowly, "but I must ask you to tell me what happened." Lily froze. She had been expecting this. What should she say? Once more, Avery's threats rang in her ears. With determination, she attempted to call upon her last remnants of Gryffindor courage and banished Avery from her mind. Opening her mouth, she tried to speak.

Only to find that she couldn't.

She raised a hand to her throat, panic resurfacing. Her voice had disappeared and Dumbledore was looking at her in consternation. The school matron, on the other hand, did not appear surprised. "I'm afraid, Headmaster, that the poor girl _can't_ speak to you." McGonagall gasped and, to the redhead's great surprise, reached for Lily's hand. At this, despite the situation, Lily felt a rush of affection for her Head of House. However, the flow of positive emotion was quickly stifled. Looking between Dumbledore and Pomfrey, Lily knew – with awful certainty – what her diagnostic charms had told her. Fighting the re-emergence of tears, Lily stared at her Headmaster.

"I see," he replied. "Do you have any theories concerning Miss Evans' condition?" Although his tone remained even, concern flashed across his face and his blue eyes seemed to glow with sympathy. On some level, Lily felt reassured by this. Watching the pair closely, Pomfrey appeared slightly mollified, although her tone retained a certain frostiness. Clearly, she did not appreciate his impatience for information.

"I believe she has been subject to several curses, including," her voice faltered, "the Cruciatus."

"Is this correct, Miss Evans?" asked Dumbledore, meeting her eyes. She nodded slowly, although a lingering doubt remained. It had begun as the Cruciatus, certainly, but Lily remained convinced that Avery had added his own spells to her torment. Sensing her turmoil, Dumbledore smiled benignly and summoned parchment and ink from Pomfrey's office. Lily flinched, and then berated herself for her reaction. What sort of witch was afraid of _wands_? "I think," he said, handing the writing materials to Lily, "that this will suffice for now." Dipping the quill in the jar of ink, Lily began to scribble on the parchment. Some part of her brain lamented the lack of colour-changing ink, but this frivolity was short-lived. Automatically rereading her work, Lily started. Horrified, she began to realise the extent of Avery's cunning.

"What is it, dear?" asked McGonagall, peering over her shoulder. Predictably, her jaw dropped. "Albus," she breathed, anger and fear etched on her face, "they've blocked her". At McGonagall's words, Lily's heart sank. She knew what that meant. Peering through his half-moon spectacles, Dumbledore stared at the parchment. Written in Lily's unsteady hand, the words on the page had clearly been altered. Although her statements regarding the spell's alterations remained the same, the occasional spark leapt from the letters and certain lines were illegible. Every time Lily had tried to write Avery's name, the jinx had reduced it to ink smears. Stripped of her voice and the ability to scrawl her attacker's name, Lily suppressed another stab of fear. The lines in Dumbledore's face deepened.

"I see. It is clear the culprits have gone to great lengths to ensure their anonymity," he said gravely. He sat in thought for a long moment, allowing Madam Pomfrey to straighten Lily's bedcovers and plump up her pillows. "I think," he said, fixing Lily with a reassuring look, "I can reverse this magic. However, like many things, it will take _time_. Whilst the curse dissipates, you will be very vulnerable. I can place protective enchantments upon you, but I am unwilling to rely on them entirely. Therefore, I am going to suggest that you are, at all times, under escort". Lily's face fell slightly and she scribbled upon her parchment again.

_How long?_

"I'm afraid," Dumbledore said heavily, "I do not know. I hope it will be a matter of weeks." Unsuccessfully, Lily tried to imagine life without speech. _Merlin_, she sometimes struggled to stay quiet for minutes! Unbidden, tears rose in her eyes again and her limbs, already weak, suffered another round of spasms. Sensing her distress, Madam Pomfrey performed a wave of spells and Lily felt the pain subside. Shaking, she wiped her face and McGonagall's hold upon her hand tightened slightly. "I appreciate," Dumbledore continued, "that this has been a terrifying ordeal for you. I will, therefore, leave you in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey." He patted her gently on the head and turned to leave, McGonagall rising to her feet.

"Keep me informed," she said briskly to the nurse, her customary tone making a reappearance. A look of grim understanding passed between the witches and Madam Pomfrey nodded. Before she left, however, McGonagall turned to Lily. "I will return tomorrow with Mr Potter." Lily felt her heart jump at the mention of James' name, conflicting emotions vying for supremacy. Some of Lily's confusion must have shown on her face, for a slight smile graced McGonagall's mouth. "I will need his help with the rota of escorts, a role I am sure your friends will embrace with pleasure." Lily nodded once, trying to disguise her disappointment. However, she had the unsettling notion that McGonagall had noticed. Glancing at Lily, she added a further sentence.

Mr Potter was most insistent that he see you," she explained, face softening. Lily wrote a single word on her parchment and held it up.

_Why?_

"I would assume," said McGonagall dryly, "that he is rather attached to you. After finding you in the corridor…"

_That was James? _Lily's heart leapt again. She vaguely remembered someone calling her name. Delving deeper into her own memories, she realised that her rescuer had cradled her to his chest, stroking her hair. Had that really been James?

"Yes," said Madam Pomfrey, rejoining the conversation. "The poor boy, with you in his arms, came running into the hospital wing. I've never seen anything like it." With difficulty, Lily tried to imagine the scenario. The resulting image was rather too clichéd for Lily's liking, and she dragged herself away from any romantic daydreams the idea inspired.

"Until tomorrow, then," finished McGonagall, heading towards the door. Emerging from her reverie, and remembering her manners, Lily scrawled a few more words.

_Thank you, Professor_

"That's quite alright," the stern witch replied, leaving Lily to the ministrations of Madam Pomfrey.

And her own, James-centred, thoughts.


	17. Bantering Boys

**Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling and anything you recognise does not belong to me. Sigh. I was totally blown away by the response to the last chapter (10 whole reviews!) and I want to say a massive, heartfelt thank you to my beta BlackRoseBlue and everybody who reviewed it. Your reviews inspire me and I love you all – if you have the time, a review is **_**always**_** appreciated. On a side note, I am pleased to award the metaphorical cookies for the 50****th**** reviewer to Gleelover47! Now, without further ado, here's the next chapter. I know it's a little conversation and angst heavy but, don't worry, I'm planning on introducing some Christmas fluff soon!**

When Lily awoke the next morning, it took a moment for reality to sink in. Her first conscious thought, mundane as it appeared, was about the Quidditch match scheduled for later that same day. Only as she stretched, preparing to open her eyes, did she realise something was amiss. Her body ached horribly and the bed felt unfamiliar. With a rush of déjà vu, Lily remembered Avery's assault and the subsequent scenes in the hospital wing. It was an awful sensation. Hand rising unconsciously to her throat, Lily looked around the airy room. Beside her bed, an empty goblet sat upon a cabinet. The reason for her deep sleep became obvious.

She had drunk a draft of Dreamless Sleep.

Lily felt oddly confused; had she really agreed to take the potion? On several occasions, Lily had vehemently rejected the draft, suffering from a deeply ingrained mistrust of sleeping aids. Her aunt had often relied upon the muggle variant, and the ensuing battle against addiction had caused Lily to view the magical potion with barely concealed suspicion. Casting her mind back, however, Lily vaguely recalled taking the potion.

But why?

Originally, she had refused to drink it. She had known – logically – that the potion would offer her some respite from the images assaulting her mind, but her stubborn nature had rejected the draft. What had changed? Delving further into her memories, the reason became woefully apparent. She had had nightmares. Avery's face had haunted her dreams, alternating between lecherous stares and hate filled glares. Finally, she had woken. If anything, this had worsened the situation. The inability to scream, or call for help, had frightened Lily badly and it had taken the repeated reassurances of Madam Pomfrey to calm her down. Clearly, her determination to deal with her demons had failed. Once more, Avery's face assailed her and, despite her best attempts, Lily could not repress a shudder.

Steering herself away from these thoughts, Lily examined her surroundings. Her observational skills, carefully cultivated, had stemmed from a combination of curiosity and a need to distract. In this instance, her wish to inspect was inspired by the latter. As always, the hospital wing was pristine. The meticulously arranged white sheets, folded neatly, were creaseless and any metal surface had been polished to perfection. Light poured through the mullioned windows and, through the panes of glass, the sky was a glorious blue. It made an oddly idyllic scene. Indeed, with her wild red hair and her obvious ill health, Lily felt entirely out of place.

In the light of day, Lily was prepared to admit that the potion had worked well. The rest had allowed her battered body to heal and her mind felt clearer. That was not to say, however, that she had fully recovered. Her murky memories were testament to the damage her mind had sustained and she had difficulty concentrating for too long. Furthermore, she still ached and, during the brief minutes she had been awake, she had experienced a couple of painful spasms. Cautiously sitting up, she was pleased to note her strength was returning. Any thoughts of getting out of bed, though, were quickly stifled.

"I must insist that you remain in bed, Miss Evans." Turning, and suppressing an involuntary wince, Lily watched Madam Pomfrey cross the room. Some part of her noted, with reluctance, the renewed use of her surname. The matron's unprecedented use of her first name was clearly an anomaly, inspired by the previous night's stresses. Reaching Lily, the matron began to run a series of diagnostic spells. Eyes fixed upon her wand, Lily resisted the urge to shudder. It wasn't much, but it was an improvement on the uncontrollable flinching she had suffered before. Despite her best attempts, however, Madam Pomfrey wasn't fooled. She clucked lightly as she noted Lily's rigid limbs and placed a reassuring hand on the girl's arm. "I must say, all things considered, that you're healing rather nicely," she said encouragingly, "although I must insist that you remain here for the rest of the day." A steely note had entered her voice and Lily nodded mutely. Truth be told, she had expected worse. She pulled a piece of parchment towards her, grabbing her quill.

_Will I be allowed to watch the Quidditch match?_

"I'm afraid I will have to refuse that particular request," said Madam Pomfrey gently, finishing the last of her medical spells. "Your condition is still fragile and," she hesitated, "I do not wish to place you in further danger." The witch looked slightly upset, but quickly hid it behind a mask of ruthless efficiency. The unspoken suggestion that Lily's attackers may return hovered between them, the elephant in the room.

_I understand._

Upon reading Lily's note, Madam Pomfrey's expression relaxed somewhat and she turned, once more, to Lily. "Professor McGonagall wished to be informed when you awoke. I believe," she sniffed, "she needs to discuss rotas with you?" Lily nodded again, rueing her inability to speak. "Very well, I will send for her." She gave Lily one final look of assessment before performing the summons. With another wave of her wand, she sent a silvery patronus gliding from the room and returned to her office.

In the intervening minutes, Lily attempted to tidy her hair. Her fingers snagged on a particularly large knot and she, wisely, gave it up as a bad job. She was in an agony of suspense. All issues aside, she wanted to see James. Badly. She knew he had lied to her, but he had also saved her. Those weren't the actions of a cruel boy, were they? Perhaps, he had simply been arranging a Marauders prank, rather than a clandestine meeting with Sawyer. Even in her head, she thought she sounded pathetic. If she looked at her infatuation in an objective light, it was hard to pinpoint its origin. How had he managed it? After six years of loathing, the infuriating boy had taken barely three months to change her mind.

It was a talent, she'd give him that.

But before she had time to examine her feelings further, McGonagall swept into the hospital wing. Close on her heels, looking frantic, was James. Clearly impatient with the professor's sedate pace, he overtook her and hurried to Lily's bedside. For one long moment he stared at her, hazel eyes alight with concern. All of her worries seem to vanish, her sense overwhelmed by that feeling of security. Whatever he was up to, he wouldn't hurt her. She was positive.

"Don't you ever," he began, raising a threatening finger, "do that to me again." Despite her rising heart rate, and general invalid status, Lily smirked, scrawling quickly on her piece of parchment.

_I'll try my best, sir._

At this display of sarcasm, James customary smirk returned. It was tentative, but it was definitely there. "Good choice, Lils," he replied, perching on her bed, "because I'm not sure my back could take it!" Lily affected hurt, penning a scathing retort on the rapidly filling parchment.

_I have to say, Potter, your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired. I don't know who you've been talking to, but insulting a girl's weight is _never_ a good idea._

"Who'd have thought it," said James, feigning shock. "Guess Sirius _doesn't_ know everything about girls." Lily sniggered silently, stopping only when McGonagall cleared her throat.

"As amusing as it is to insult Mr Black," she said crisply, "there are other things we need to discuss."

"Yes, Professor," said James. He looked serious, all humour cast aside. It was an expression he often wore when fulfilling his Head Boy duties and, privately, Lily thought he wore it well.

Indeed, during their subsequent conversation, that look did not falter. He made a series of suggestions that were, in all honesty, useful. By the end of the morning, McGonagall and the two Heads had made a useable rota. Lily grumbled at the restrictions, but part of her was glad of the extra security. The attack had left her severely shaken and the idea of constant supervision was not as repugnant as it could have been.

But James' most inspired contribution did not occur until the end of their meeting. Lily's energy levels were flagging and her penmanship was degrading accordingly.

"What on earth," he muttered, "does _that _say?" Lily sighed in exasperation, preparing to rewrite her last statement. As she lunged for the quill, however, James stopped her. "I have an idea," he said mysteriously, fingering his wand. Both McGonagall and Lily stared at him, nonplussed. Screwing up his eyes in concentration, he said a few words under his breath and flicked his wrist. At first, it seemed as though nothing had happened. Certainly, there were no dramatic bangs or flashes of light. Then, Lily gasped. Floating in the air, just before her eyes, were spidery letters.

_Would this be easier than parchment and quill?_

She read the words slowly, hope coursing through her. She nodded violently, nearly upsetting a pot of ink.

_I'll take that as a yes, then? _Even using the written word, James' sarcasm was easily conveyed. She hit him lightly on the shoulder.

"Alright," said James, reverting to speech. "Can you perform non-verbal spells?" he asked worriedly. Lily looked at him, her eyebrows raised. The goblet, mercifully empty, tapped James' head and Lily sat back, smugness emanating from every pore. "Right, guess you've answered that question." Raising his wand, he enunciated the spell words and performed a little flick. "_Loqui verba_," he said clearly. Eagerly, despite her exhaustion, Lily copied him. Her heart did a little dance when James took her wrist, demonstrating the motion, but her concentration did not waver.

Much.

As he let go, Lily felt an odd sensation. At first, she thought her overactive hormones were to blame. Suddenly, she realised it was the spell. Focusing on the sensation, she strived to conjure up words and, a few seconds later, was rewarded for her hard work.

_How's this?_

McGonagall allowed a small smile to grace her face and James let out an undignified whoop.

"That's my girl," he said joyfully. "I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'd miss the nagging of Lily Evans." He dodged out of her way this time, anticipating her movements and, although she glowered, there was very little malice in their interaction. Indeed, their banter could have continued in this vein for quite sometime but, once more, McGonagall brought them back to reality.

"Quidditch, Mr Potter?" she queried, rising to her feet.

"Oh, yeah," he replied, still looking at Lily. "I guess they might need me…" James said, trailing off. She'd never seen him less excited about Quidditch.

"_Might_, Potter? You're the captain!" McGonagall exclaimed, poking James. Ruefully, Lily gestured to the door. McGonagall's obsession with Quidditch was legendary, and only fools or madmen trifled with it. She watched with resignation as McGonagall chivvied James off of her bed.

_Good luck_, she sent, watching the letters shimmer in front of her eyes. She grasped his hand briefly, before pushing him towards the exit.

"Thanks," James said, allowing his Head of House to manhandle him. He paused briefly, some of the fire returning to his eyes. "You better be there for the victory celebrations, Evans!" he cried spiritedly, resisting McGonagall's less than subtle attempts to dislodge him.

_Then you'd better win it, Potter, _Lily projected, suppressing a smile at his outrage.

"We can win in our _sleep_," he scoffed.

"Not if you're late for the match, Potter," said McGonagall briskly, throwing aside all pretence and dragging him towards the door. Lily's could no longer control her mirth and began to giggle silently, amused at the sight. Regaining her composure, Lily sent James a final message.

_Thanks, James. For everything._

Reading her parting words, James nodded and, finally, left the hospital wing. As the voices of McGonagall and James faded into the distance, Lily settled back into her pillows. Lily knew that he had sensed the hidden meaning behind her words. He had known that she was thanking him for much more than his spell, and she was glad of it. Resolutely, she pushed all thoughts of Avery and torture from her mind, thinking of the security James' presence brought. Remembering their teasing conversation, Lily allowed a grin to spread across her face, banishing the lines of suffering.

At this moment, she needed all the laughter she could get.


	18. Upon Reflection

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I just enjoying playing with her wonderful creations. **

**Massive waves of gratitude, as always, to my fabulous beta Black Rose Blue and to every lovely person who has reviewed/favourited/alerted this story. Your comments truly make all the difference. As an added incentive, the 100****th**** reviewer will receive another batch of metaphorical cookies/a declaration of love from James – whichever makes you happier! Because I love you all, and because this chapter has a fair bit of angst, I'm also posting another with a bit of Christmas fluff too. I hope you enjoy! **

As it happened, Madam Pomfrey did not release Lily until past midnight. Despite her rapid improvement, Lily was dismayed to realise the extent of her fragility. It had taken several hours, and a vile barrage of potions and charms, before the nurse was truly satisfied. What's more, Madam Pomfrey insisted on accompanying her charge to the Gryffindor portrait hole.

Normally, this would have irked the fiercely independent Lily, but she was secretly grateful for the escort. The walk from the hospital wing felt inordinately long and her senses were going into overdrive. Everything that made the castle so fascinating had been warped; every nook and cranny inspired fear. Nevertheless, she stuffed her trembling hands in her pockets and held her head high. She didn't want anyone, particularly her tormentors, to see how unnerving the attack had been. If nothing else, Lily had her pride.

Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, Lily reached the Fat Lady's portrait. She looked at the matron, allowing a fraction of her worry to show. She was dreading her return to the main school, worried about the reaction of her peers. She wasn't sure how much they knew and was in no hurry to find out. In a rare display of affection, however, Madam Pomfrey grasped her hand and lowered her voice. Somehow, she knew what was on Lily's mind. "Now, I hear that a certain bunch of rowdy, infuriating students won today," she said briskly, drawing a small smile from Lily. "I, therefore, think it's quite likely they won't pay you a whit of attention. If I know those Marauders, I suspect a bottle or two of Rosmerta's finest will have found its way into the common room."

At this, Lily was amazed to see a slight twinkle in the matron's eye. Madam Pomfrey must have noted this, for she let out a dry laugh. "Heavens, girl, you needn't look so shocked. It may surprise you, but I was young once, too." She stared nostalgically into space for a moment, allowing Lily's blush to fade. Bringing herself back to the present, she pushed Lily towards the entrance and muttered the password to the Fat Lady.

As the portrait swung open, Madam Pomfrey had one last remark to make. "There will be potions in the dormitory to relieve the symptoms and if – at any point – you need me, you know where I am," she said seriously, giving Lily one last assessment before turning on her heel. All in all, Lily felt oddly touched by the matron's concern. Before she could dwell on it, however, she gathered up her courage and clambered through the portrait hole.

A roar of sound greeted her; the party was, evidently, still in full swing. She braced herself for the inevitable, but there was a welcome lack of curious stares. As Madam Pomfrey had predicted, the Gryffindors were still wrapped up in their celebrations and – judging by several glazed expressions – her comments about Rosmerta's alcohol had been well justified. Suddenly, Lily felt overwhelmed. She had desperately wanted, on some level, to come to the party. Naively, she had hoped that the normality would do her good. She couldn't have been more mistaken. Lily felt oddly separate from the joyful spirits of her house mates, divided by a line of worry that hadn't existed previously. She swayed slightly.

"Lily!" cried a voice. Glancing round, whilst gripping to a padded armchair, Lily located the source of the commotion. Mary and Marlene were threading their way through the crowd, wearing a mixture of worry and relief upon their faces. Gratefully, she fell into their arms. Besides James, Madam Pomfrey had not permitted any visitors and Lily had missed her friends desperately. The fact that thinking of them during Avery's attack had protected her sanity made this feeling far more acute.

"Dormitory?" Marlene asked quietly, understanding written across her features. Lily opened her mouth to reply, before realising she couldn't. Instead, she nodded and allowed herself to be hauled through the room. As they went, several people called out words of greeting and Lily gave a silent prayer of thanks that they were unaware of her experiences. Not all of the Gryffindors were similarly clueless, however. Sirius and Remus had barrelled their way through the milling students, the latter's odd behaviour firmly banished, and bundled Lily, Mary and Marlene. At times like this, when his face was flushed and his manner exuberant, Lily's doubts about Remus' Marauder credentials were dismissed. He was grinning widely and the faint scent of Butterbeer hung around the pair. Beneath this, however, Lily thought he looked rather wan and his burst of energy was quickly spent. He pulled back a little, gazing thoughtfully at her face.

"You're feeling better?" he asked slowly, smile faltering. Resigned to the fact she was going to be nodding and shaking her head a lot in the coming weeks, Lily dipped her chin slightly. "Good," he said simply, letting go of her. He didn't waste time with false platitudes and Lily liked him all the more for it. Sirius, on the other hand, could barely contain himself. He loudly congratulated her on breaking James' back, before scooping her into a rib-cracking embrace.

"Sirius!" chorused Mary and Marlene. Merely smirking at the admonishment, Sirius put Lily down and dragged Remus away. The whole incident had occurred in less than a minute. In spite of herself, Lily was impressed. Sirius may have had his faults, but wasting time was not one of them. Sirius' mention of James, however, had led her thoughts astray and she glanced about the common room. He _had_ told her to attend. Heart sinking, she spotted him on one of the sofas. His arm was, loosely, around Sawyer's shoulders and the leggy brunette was giggling at something he'd said. With a jolt, Lily met his eyes and watched his face transform. He appeared genuinely pleased to see her. _Merlin_, why did he have to make things so confusing? Untangling himself from Sawyer, he bounded over to the girls, embracing Lily with distinct enthusiasm. As he released her, Lily realised this was the first time he'd hugged her. Unless you counted the time she'd sobbed into his shoulder. Or the time he'd found her collapsed and tortured in a corridor. Wryly, she decided their history was… _interesting_.

At best.

"Told you we'd win," he crowed, his look of concern replaced with one of smugness. Lily rolled her eyes, desperately trying to hide the fact that she was using Marlene and Mary as a pair of human crutches. James, however, was not fooled. "Although it wouldn't be a Gryffindor party without the infamous Lily Evans telling us to behave, I think we'll have to cope," he sighed dramatically, clasping his heart in mock anguish, "the only place you should be is bed. Before you break _their _backs, too." He smirked slightly at this last comment. Childishly, Lily stuck her tongue out at him. With a burst of concentration, a few words shimmered into existence.

_Just because I can't talk, doesn't mean you'll escape my witty ripostes_

"Glad to hear it," he said, attempting solemnity, "now, go!" With an exaggerated sigh, Lily gestured towards the girls' staircase and Mary and Marlene aided her slow ascension. Glancing behind her, she saw James heading back to the recently vacated sofa and her heart sank. She turned her head away and refocused all her energies on climbing the stairs. Her limbs were becoming steadily more tender and she suspected another spasm was imminent. Muted tentacles of pain seemed to be winding themselves around her spine again and Lily suppressed a wince.

"Nearly there, Lils," muttered one of her friends. Some part of Lily wondered why the walk from the hospital wing hadn't caused so many problems, but she suspected, in retrospect, that Madam Pomfrey had been casting a series of healing charms. She thought of the potions in her dormitory and her determination to reach her bed increased. Although she disliked taking any form of medicine, her experiences with Dreamless Sleep had demonstrated that they were not without merit. By the time they reached their dormitory, Lily was exhausted and barely noticed the attentions of her friends. In fact, she was so tired that she didn't even react to Mary's wand. With a cautious wave of her wrist, Mary changed Lily's robes into pyjamas and gently tucked the redhead into bed. She was barely awake enough to swallow the potions that Marlene offered her, willing to embrace the oblivion of sleep.

Briefly, before Morpheus ensnared her in his clutches, Lily thought of her friends. In their own ways, they understood what she was going through. Their actions reminded her of the night Marlene's brother died, despite the reversal of roles, and Mary had also suffered at the hands of Avery. And all of these things could be traced to Voldemort's power hungry and pureblood-focused rhetoric. Her last conscious thought was a simple one and built upon her previous revelations. Voldemort could not be permitted to continue and, if she had to, Lily would fight against him.

For what else could she do?


	19. A Christmas Cracker

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I just enjoying playing with her wonderful creations. **

**Massive waves of gratitude, as always, to my fabulous beta Black Rose Blue and to every lovely person who has reviewed/favourited/alerted this story. Your comments inspire me. **

The following weeks, predictably, were difficult. Temporarily mute, Lily tested James' charm to the limit. She missed the ability to whisper sarcastic comments to her friends – holding a conversation using glimmering words meant that secrecy was all but impossible – and lessons were much slower for it. Thanks to Madam Pomfrey's potions, her pain levels were tolerable, but her dreams were still unsettling. This was not helped by her first encounter with Avery after the attack. She had, naively, hoped she could point him out to her friends. But when she walked past him, steeling herself to accuse him, she found herself unable to move her arm. Something forced her to keep walking, to act entirely normal, and, frighteningly, Avery's spell had prevented her from giving him away. In any other circumstance, Lily would have admired the complexity and efficacy of his jinx.

Funnily enough, however, the urge to appreciate his spell work was non-existent.

To cap it all, the Hogwarts' rumour mill went into overdrive. Although the Marauders had spread a relatively accurate account of her attack, including her inability to reveal her tormentors' names, the student body seemed determined to indulge in wild speculation, egged on – no doubt – by the portraits. Some of the stories were so ridiculous that Lily didn't know whether to laugh or cry. For instance, she overheard one excitable third year telling his friend that Lily had challenged the Bloody Baron to a duel. Apparently, according to Francis Corner, Lily's muteness was a punishment for losing. Lily had almost smirked at this. How the insubstantial ghost had fought Lily and subsequently hexed her vocal cords was never satisfactorily explained and Lily had resisted the temptation to tell Corner that she had, in fact, _won_. At least, she thought wryly, that version of the rumour might gain her the respect of the easily impressed.

Worryingly, however, this was one of the saner rumours and several reflected the atmosphere of urgency and fear that permeated the castle. Many, rightly, had attributed the attack to a student inspired by Voldemort's hate-filled propaganda and had voiced anger at the treatment of their Head Girl. The incident had increased tensions within Hogwarts, a subtle divide appearing between those who openly criticised Voldemort and those who did not. Although upset at the simmering antagonism, Lily took some solace from the fact that other students, particularly Muggleborns, had begun crossing the school in packs. She regretted the need for this, but was glad they were more precautious than she had been.

There were, however, a few rays of sunshine. Most notable amongst these were the preparations for Christmas. Before Lily had been introduced to the magical world, she had found something of its mystery within the winter festival. The delicate decorations and spectacular celebrations that she had experienced at Hogwarts had driven this appreciation to new heights and she was determined to enjoy her last Christmas at the school. This year, as Head Girl, she was partially responsible for the array of tinsel and glitter that invaded the halls. With great enthusiasm, she set about the task and amused James immensely with her child-like glee.

As a result of this duty, a few days into December, Lily could be found strolling down the corridors, James – her escort for the day – trailing along in her wake. Although Lily was always organised, her need for check lists had multiplied alarmingly. In her hands, she held a clipboard and was assiduously ticking off tasks. In spite of her recent experience, she was determined to make this the best Christmas in living memory. All of her friends were staying and she had cajoled, nagged and – in the case of Sirius – blackmailed them into helping her.

"Where are we going, now?" James asked, mildly bemused.

_We're meeting your partners in crime who have… _volunteered… _for a spot of Christmas decorating,_ replied Lily, conjuring the floating letters.

"The Marauders? Decorating?" A hint of incredulity had entered James' voice and Lily couldn't really blame him. The idea of his friends, with the possible exception of Remus, participating in a prefect duty was laughable. In the normal scheme of things, as Lily had reminded James, they were responsible for hexing the sparkling fairy lights and glittering ornaments that adorned the castle corridors. But, as the year had already proved, stranger things had happened.

_A Marauder? Head Boy? _said Lily teasingly, eliciting a wry chuckle from James.

"Touché, Evans." Laughing silently, Lily led them to the Entrance Hall, looking for their friends. The large space had already been attacked by a team of officious prefects and a spine tingling array of ice sculptures and floating wreaths infused the place with Christmas spirit. Lily took a moment to admire their handiwork, whilst ticking off another target on her parchment, and allowed happiness to course through her. In spite of everything, she really loved this time of year. Sighing with delight, Lily glanced around. In no time at all, she spotted Sirius, Remus, Peter, Mary and Marlene standing in a little huddle near the door. Waving joyfully, she pulled James towards them and joined the group. She had asked Sawyer if she wished to join them, unwilling to upset James by not inviting her, but she had, thankfully, declined. In fact, she had labelled the entire enterprise childish and walked away with an irritatingly superior smile.

For some unfathomable reason, Mary's earlier comment about words that rhymed with "snitch" sprang to mind…

After explaining her plans, gesticulating furiously the whole time, Lily chivvied her friends through the first floor corridors. With some trepidation, she allocated them tasks. Gratifyingly, however, her sombre looking friends were soon grinning with amusement. To their very great surprise, decorating was neither onerous nor dull and James and Sirius were soon embroiled in a vastly entertaining tinsel war. Tolerantly, Lily watched the boys playing. She was oddly reminded of the Star Wars films, the clash of green tinsel on red reminiscent of the animated lightsaber duels. When she commented on the resemblance, however, she was met with varying degrees of confusion. Only Mary, the token Muggleborn, laughed uproariously, although Remus' slight smirk indicated he understood the reference.

_Which of them is Leia, do you think? _

"With hair like that? It has to be Sirius," Mary quipped, referring to their friend's carefully groomed locks. Unlike James' unruly mop, Sirius' hair was controllable and Lily smiled at the idea of Sirius sporting the doughnut style favoured by Princess Leia.

Eventually the duel drew to a close, ending when James found his throat encircled by Sirius' tinsel, and the others got back to work. Lily found the sight of Peter carefully charming several statues red and gold oddly endearing and the genuine smile that spread across Marlene's face at Mary's attempt to alter several of the tapestries warmed Lily's heart. Sirius had cleverly reworked the spell which had caused the armour to serenade passers-by, substituting nursery rhymes for Christmas carols. With a wave of her wand, Lily ensured that the more risqué versions were censored. She suspected, deep down, that Sirius would alter it and his muttered conversation with Peeves did nothing to allay that worry. Resignedly, Lily asked Sirius to ensure that the armour targeted _all _houses. He grimaced slightly, but nodded his head. Several moments later, however, his face brightened.

"Does this mean you condone any trick I may or may not be planning, Lillikins?" he asked cheekily. Lily did not dignify this with a response, rolling her eyes and keeping a wary eye on the poltergeist. After a few minutes, Peeves floated away, grumbling furiously to himself. Once he had left, time passed peaceably and the lower floors of the castle became increasingly enchanting. Every crevice seemed to emanate festivity and the whole place appeared to glow. It was amazing what the Marauders could accomplish and Lily was reminded, for the hundredth time, why they were considered some of the moat talented students in the school.

Without a shadow of a doubt, the highlight of the day was McGonagall's reaction to the sight of the Marauders threading tinsel through the banisters. Her expression was one of pure shock and, possibly, pride. Their amusement had been compounded by her later response. Grasping a suit of armour for support, the professor had nearly leapt out of her skin. The helmet had turned towards her and launched into a rousing – and highly inappropriate – chorus of "Good King Wenceslas". Following this, McGonagall had tried to maintain a façade of stern disapproval, but Lily had heard her award Gryffindor twenty points for "excellent charms work" when she thought no one was listening.

Indeed, all things considered, it was probably one of the nicest afternoons Lily had ever spent. For a few hours, all thoughts of Avery, Voldemort and unrequited love were banished to the darker corners of her mind. Her head was filled with Christmas-inspired cheer and the sound of her friends' laughter echoed in her ears.

The way it should be.


	20. Rumours In A Winter Wonderland

**Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling and anything you recognise is hers. Massive thanks, as always, to Black Rose Blue (my fabulous beta) and to all those lovely people who have favourited/alerted/reviewed this story – it truly inspires me. On that note, all reviews are gratefully received and – as already promised – there will be metaphorical cookies/declarations of love from James for the 100****th**** reviewer! So, without further ado, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy! **

Over the next few days, Hogwarts seemed to settle back into its usual rhythm. The outcry and divisions caused by Lily's attack died down, although lingering tensions remained. By far and away the biggest surprise, however, was the separation of James and Sawyer. Truthfully, nobody had seen it coming. They had, to all intents and purposes, appeared as happy and clingy as any other pairing. Although James had never successfully explained his reasons for lying, Lily had decided he had been telling the truth about the rocky nature of his and Sawyer's relationship. Without that piece of evidence, Lily could see no reason for the sudden break up. The couple had parted amicably a couple of days before Christmas, and the Hogwarts rumour mill had swung back into action.

To Lily's confusion, Sawyer seemed neither devastated nor angered by the split. Indeed, Sawyer appeared remarkably blasé about the entire affair. The night before the holidays, Lily and her friends overhead a conversation between the striking brunette and Eliza Murphy. "It was never serious," she said to a rapt Eliza, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "I'm not overly fond of the whole monogamy concept and there were things he cared about more, you know?"

"Like Quidditch?" asked Eliza, referring to Sawyer's earlier complaints.

"Yeah, something like that," replied Sawyer, casting Lily, Mary and Marlene an appraising glance. Caught in the act of eavesdropping, Lily felt her face flush and turned away. Sensing her discomfort, Mary launched into a rapid evaluation of the Gryffindor Quidditch teams chances. Before too long, she and Marlene were involved in a heated debate, allowing Lily to organise her thoughts.

She resolutely squashed her own, horribly clichéd, hopes. Even Lily, desperate as she was, knew that pursuing James was a bad idea. Part of her longed to talk to him about it, but the other half shied away. Just because he was newly single didn't mean he'd be interested in another relationship, particularly with his redheaded friend. The James who'd asked Lily out at every opportunity was long gone, replaced by an altogether more mature version. Sometimes, Lily wondered if she'd made a mistake in flatly rejecting him. After hours of internal agony, however, Lily decided she hadn't. She could have never fallen for a boy who did _that_ to Severus. But as she'd already noted, James wasn't that person anymore. Before she could analyse things any longer, however, Mary asked her opinion on something Marlene had said. Swearing to herself that she would keep her pining to a minimum, Lily resolutely joined in their conversation and pushed all thoughts of James out of mind.

Sort of.

Despite her earlier promise, Lily couldn't help dwelling on James over the next few days. She tried, and often succeeded, to compartmentalise her feelings. Above everything, he'd become one of her closest friends. She couldn't – _wouldn't _– jeopardise that. Sometimes, however, she would succumb to vapid daydreams. On Christmas Eve morn, Lily was roused from her imaginings by a particularly vicious owl. Sitting at the Gryffindor table, mindlessly stirring a bowl of porridge, she was mildly shocked to receive a letter. Although her parents sent her the occasional missive, she had no regular correspondent. It was with great curiosity, therefore, that she surveyed the letter attached to the barn owl's leg. He stared regally at her, preening his magnificent plumage and fixing her with a haughty gaze. Amused by his antics, Lily shoved a piece of toast at him. She struggled with the envelope for a second, trying to unfold it.

"Who's the letter from, Lils?" asked Mary, looking on with interest.

_I'll let you know when I've managed to _open _it._ Mary grinned at Lily's irritation, exchanging amused glances with Remus as she stroked the owl. Sparing a moment to glare at the pair, Lily was pleased to note that Remus appeared much better. The dark shadows beneath his eyes had lessened and he looked a little less pale. She determinedly kept her gaze from falling on a pensive James, hoping that his failed relationship with Sawyer wasn't preying too heavily on his mind. He had, like Sawyer, seemed surprisingly calm about the whole affair and Lily was loath to see him regress. Redirecting her mind, and finally unravelling the letter, Lily's green eyes sought the signature.

"Well?"

_It's from Alice_, replied Lily. Scanning the letter's contents, she broke into a delighted smile. _They're engaged! _

"Longbottom's finally convinced someone to share that horror of a surname?" Sirius interjected, ignoring Marlene's disapproving mutters. Despite herself, Lily smirked.

_Apparently so._

"When's the wedding?" asked Mary excitedly. Although not as close to Alice as Lily was, she still had great affection for the round faced witch.

_They're thinking about February_, Lily said, perusing the letter in greater depth. _I think they want to get married as quickly as possible, in light of… everything_. No one asked what Lily was referring to. The presence of war loomed on the horizon; heart wrenching letters continued to arrive with alarming frequency and the teachers looked grimmer every day. Even Dumbledore's twinkle seemed temporarily muted. All things considered, she couldn't really blame Alice and Frank for not wanting to waste any more time. If she were in their position, she would have done precisely the same thing. She continued reading Alice's rounded writing, passing on her invitation to the others and laughing at some of her wittier comments.

Reaching the final paragraph, Lily let out a silent squeal of delight. _She wants me to be a bridesmaid! _she exclaimed_. _Mary and Marlene smiled broadly at this, grinning at Lily's obvious happiness and exchanging pleased looks. In that moment, it was hard to imagine that danger lurked outside the walls of the castle. A wedding, although wonderful, seemed such a normal occurrence. In some part of her brain, Lily felt as though ordinary life should grind to a halt. It was surprisingly reassuring that it could continue. Beside her, Mary and Marlene began an excited conversation about dress robes and the boys wondered aloud whether they'd be invited to Frank's stag night. By the sounds of it, they had some pretty worrying pranks planned.

Trying to rid her mind of some of the more disturbing images their ideas had inspired, Lily almost missed Alice's last line. In a hasty postscript, Alice had asked whether she and the rest of her friends would be available to discuss wedding plans at some point. Although it seemed innocuous, there was something about the wording that sounded oddly formal, as though Alice was afraid to say more. Remembering her paranoia at David's funeral, Lily bit her lip. Could there be more to the proposed meeting than a discussion of serviettes and napkins? She thought there might be.

Coming to a decision, she rummaged in her bag and pulled out a scrap of parchment and a jar of colour changing ink. She chewed on her quill for a minute, before penning a reply. Suggesting the next Hogsmede weekend, scheduled in January, Lily rolled up the scroll and attached it to the owl's leg. She stared into space for a moment, reflecting upon Alice's letter, and then threw herself back into the conversation.

After some heated discussion, it was agreed that they would head into the grounds for a snowball fight and the rest of the day passed in a haze of snow and laughter. Sirius, in a nod to Lily and James' longstanding rivalry, had suggested that the two Heads take on the role of team captains and the two had agreed. Lily was pleased to see that James took to the idea with great enthusiasm, returned to his usual buoyant self. Rapidly, the fight became violent. James, Sirius and Remus banded together against the girls and Peter, using a variety of spells to pelt them with snow. In retaliation, Lily used a silent _glisseo_ to make the ground even slipperier, laughing as the opposing team stumbled and slid on the icy surface.

Taking advantage of their temporary incapacitation, Lily launched a mad assault against Sirius' quickly constructed fort. She ran through the banks of snow. Without warning, she felt a hand grasp her ankle and she, too, tumbled to the floor. Scrabbling to get up, Lily found herself pinned to the ground and looked up to see James' grinning face a few inches from her own.

Her heart seemed to stop beating.

For a long moment they looked at each other. They were so close that Lily could see droplets of snow glittering on James' eyelashes. Then, before Lily's heart had had a chance to restart, James' face was obscured with a pile of snow. She could hear Mary's gleeful yelps and tried to ignore her mounting disappointment. What _was _that? Freeing herself, and fighting to hide her blushes, she leapt to her feet. The moment, whatever it had been, was over. Smirking slightly, she extended an extra burst of concentration.

_You'll have to do better than that, Potter_.

"Don't worry," said James, "I plan to." Despite the presence of snow in his mouth, he sounded oddly determined and Lily had to suppress a shiver.

Merlin, she _had _to get a grip on her hormones.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! I suspect some of you may have some queries/concerns about Sawyer and James' relationship but, don't worry, they'll be addressed. Not everything is what it seems… **


	21. Across The Divide

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and her wonderful characters are not mine. A big thank you, as always, to my beta Black Rose Blue and all the fabulous people who have alerted/reviewed/favourited this story - you inspire me. So, without further ado, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy!**

Later that evening, following dinner, the Gryffindors headed back to the common room. Although they'd spent the morning throwing snowballs, they hadn't had enough and the afternoon had been wiled away in the wintry grounds, ended by a warming meal in the Great Hall. It had been lovely. Despite the icy weather, the castle remained cosy and the friends had quickly discarded their scarves and gloves, carrying them in their arms. As they went, the Marauders discussed the logistics of their next prank and even Marlene had been drawn into the debate.

Lily, as usual, trailed behind. Ever since Avery's attack, she had preferred to remain on the outskirts of these conversations. When she was in the centre, she found herself struggling to keep up and, at moments like this, rued her lack of voice.

"Do you reckon Peeves would provide a distraction?" mused Sirius thoughtfully, looking at the others.

"Only if you're prepared to have our prank overshadowed," remarked Remus dryly. "He does have a habit of overdoing things."

"Damn," Sirius muttered, conceding the point.

"I hear that Filch has a fear of rats." This was James' observation. It was seemingly innocuous, but the others' faces lit up.

"I take it you have some devilishly clever spell that conjures them?" queried Mary, arching a heavily pencilled eyebrow in distaste. Like the unfortunate Filch, Mary had a strong hatred of rats. On her other side, Marlene's face reflected similar sentiments.

"Yeah, Wormtail's the man for that," Sirius said significantly, nudging the chubby boy in the shoulder and exchanging an unidentifiable look with the rest of the boys. At this praise, Peter beamed with pleasure.

"Peter Pettigrew, rat expert extraordinaire, at your service," he said, giving Mary a surprisingly graceful bow. There was some good natured laughter at this and Peter's grin grew wider still. The little group passed under a torch and the boy's face was thrown into sharp relief, blond hair glinting in the light.

Lily, silent as always, took the chance to examine him. Throughout their school career, she had wondered at his position within the Marauders. She didn't doubt his love of pranks, but she had often thought he was seen as a barely tolerated hindrance, an irritant. Indeed, when her hatred for James was at its strongest, she had wondered whether Peter was kept around for amusement, a verbal punch bag that took the place of Severus. As they'd become older, however, their jibes had appeared more affectionate and Peter had become more forceful. He hadn't exhibited any form of leadership, though, and Lily was painfully aware of his need for acceptance. He was, in all honesty, doomed to remain in the shadow of James and Sirius. Even Remus, in his quiet way, had gained the school's respect. Noting this, Lily had taken an extra effort to include the blond boy in her conversations and had grown fond of the endearingly surprised expression that graced his features when she talked to him.

Unexpectedly, Lily stumbled. Wrenched from her musings, Lily looked down to see her scarf trailing on the ground. Dropping behind the others, intending to scoop it up, she was dismayed to see that she'd lost a glove as well. Doubling back, Lily retraced her steps. Where was it? Finally, after several minutes of frantic searching, she spotted the missing garment, hidden in the shadows of a particularly ugly bust. Standing to her feet, and holding the glove loosely in her hand, she glanced around, suddenly uneasy. Her friends, enthralled by their conversation, had rounded the corner and passed out of earshot.

She was entirely alone.

Lily's breath began to come in short, sharp gasps and the corridor began to spin. The emptiness was oppressive and she felt the panic course through her. On some level, she was disgusted at herself – how could she be so cowardly? – but she couldn't help how she felt. She started to run blindly, reassuring herself that James and the others were only a couple of minutes away.

But in a gross parody of James' earlier actions, she felt something grab her ankle. She cursed her lack of vigilance and poor reflexes. Had she learned nothing? What sort of Head Girl wasn't on constant alert? Hanging upside down, her red tresses fell in front of eyes and obscured her vision. Terrified, she tried to move her hair. Using a shaking hand to lift her curls, she looked at her attacker, fully expecting Avery's leering face to return her stare.

But it wasn't Avery.

It wasn't even Mulciber.

Peering through black curtains of hair, dark eyes fixed upon her own, was none other than Severus. Even if Lily had possessed a voice, she would have been lost for words. His gaze seemed to bore through her, yet it lacked malice. For a moment, Lily could see the little boy she'd become best friends with and wanted nothing more than to hold him close.

"I'm sorry, Lily," he said softly, a flicker of desperation in his eyes.

_For what? _Lily asked, apprehension building. Was he apologising for past actions, or something he was about to do?

"For everything," Severus breathed. Flicking his wand, he released Lily. She tumbled to the ground and, automatically it seemed, Severus reached out to catch her. As soon as humanly possible, he let go.

_What do you want? _Severus flinched at her question and Lily hastily laid a hand on his arm, trying to reduce the accusatory nature of her words. It appeared incredible that, after all this time, they still fell into the same routines and, briefly, Lily allowed herself to admit the truth. She missed him.

"I…" Severus stumbled over his words, although his stare never faltered. It was as though he was drinking in her appearance, memorising every detail. This did nothing to reassure her.

_Who sent you? _Lily probed, impatient with Severus' reticence.

"What? Nobody! I came… on… on my own."

_What? No Dark Lord? _Lily struggled to control her bitterness.

"No. I wanted… to put things right," said Severus, unconsciously stroking his wand.

_How? Planning on ditching your Death Eater pals?_

"I can't," Severus replied, his tone strangled. The desperation in his eyes grew stronger. With difficulty, he looked away from Lily's blazing expression. In a fluid gesture, he raised his wand.

_Wait, what are you…_

Before Lily had time to react, the Slytherin muttered an incantation and – for the second time in a month – Lily felt as though she couldn't breathe. Her throat had constricted and she couldn't open her mouth. For a brief second, Lily's sense of betrayal was palpable. But, as she moved to raise her own wand, something amazing happened. The pressure on her lungs lessened and Lily was struck by a sudden, impossible thought.

"Severus?" she asked, and then promptly clapped a hand to her mouth.

She could speak.

They looked at each other, neither daring to turn away. "Why?" breathed Lily, taking in Severus' pallid expression.

"I _had_ to." Although cryptic, Lily understood. Despite everything, he still cared for her.

"Are you… are you still one of _them_?" Lily couldn't suppress her hope, long forgotten, that Severus would return to her. Unwillingly, her eyes flickered towards his left arm. Had he been branded? She had thought him lost, had sobbed for the boy she had known and, reluctantly, accepted his betrayal. Counteracting Avery's hex did not seem the actions of an evil man, did it? She couldn't believe that Severus was truly gone. But, with one gesture, her hopes were crushed.

He nodded.

"Oh, Sev," she whispered, attempting to stem her rising tears. "Is there nothing I can do?" He hesitated for a few seconds, then – agonisingly slowly – he shook his head. Something inside Lily broke. She knew, now, that there was no chance. Whatever he felt for her, it wasn't enough. She had an inkling that Severus hadn't lifted the entirety of Avery's charm. Her voice had returned, but she doubted she could denounce Avery. Severus couldn't let her incriminate his Death Eater friends, that much was obvious. He had chosen them over her. And that hurt. At least, she thought bleakly, they had a final opportunity to say farewell.

Before they were on opposite sides of the battle line.

Cautiously, Lily stepped closer to Severus. When he did nothing, she flung her arms around him and held him close. He stiffened slightly in her embrace, and then relaxed. How long they would have stood there, Lily didn't know. But Fate, as she was wont to do, intervened.

"Lily!" shouted a familiar voice in the distance, overwrought with worry. "Lily!" Severus' face blanched, and he swiftly disentangled himself.

"Go," he hissed, suddenly cool, "return to Potter." Casting her one last glance, he began to melt into the shadows. But just before he disappeared entirely, Lily heard a final farewell float through the air. "Goodbye Lily, be safe."

And with that, he was gone.


	22. Just A Kiss

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and none of her wonderful characters are mine. Sadly. A massive thank you, as always, to my fabulous beta Black Rose Blue and to all the lovely people who have favourited/alerted/reviewed this story. It means more than I can say. On a related note, the cookies have returned and the 120th reviewer will receive a metaphorical plate of cookies. What more incentive do you need? Regardless, I hope you enjoy this!**

In the few seconds before James' arrival, Lily made a hasty decision. Desperately trying to smudge the tears from her face, Lily attempted to compose herself. Although she trusted James, her rational side told her that she couldn't tell _anyone _about Severus' involvement. If Voldemort discovered that he had helped her… Lily didn't want to think about the punishment that would merit. On some level, she knew it was ridiculous to worry about Severus' welfare. Simply put, he had chosen his way and she had chosen hers. But life was rarely simple and Lily couldn't disregard her concerns. She couldn't.

She _wouldn't_.

No sooner had she come to this decision then James' tousled head rounded the corner.

"Lily!" he cried, for a third time. His hazel eyes were alight with worry and his taught expression relaxed into one of relief. For a heartbeat, he stared into her eyes. "I thought… I thought…" But he didn't complete his sentence. Whatever idea he had been entertaining, it was clearly too awful to express. Glancing at him, Lily was touched by his concern. The hopes that had been stirred by their moment in the snow surfaced once more, almost overwhelming her memories of Severus. Bringing herself swiftly back to earth, Lily continued with her plan. She sighed internally, resigned to another day or two of muteness. Despite her desperate need to speak, she knew it would raise suspicion if her voice returned the minute she was left alone.

_Sorry_, _I lost a glove_, said Lily, feigning calm. Beneath her scarf, her hands were shaking, but her face was serene. The urge to fiddle with her hair, a nervous gesture since childhood, was exceptionally strong. In more ways than one, she was glad that she'd been carrying her outdoor wear.

"Merlin, all this worry… for a glove?" Unlike Lily, James was struggling to keep his emotions in check and his voice was hoarse. His breathing slowed, James leant against a wall. "Just… don't do that, alright?" Lily nodded obediently.

_To the common room? _she inquired, holding out an arm. James smiled briefly at her, taking the proffered limb and leading her down the corridor. Every now and then, he looked at her. His brows were furrowed. He was terribly preoccupied and his momentary relief had long faded. _What's up? _Lily asked. She narrowed her eyes, taking in the worry lines adorning James' face and the way his mouth was scrunched in concentration. It occurred to her, as she examined him minutely, that this was the second time in the last couple of months that James had come flying to her rescue. This was yet another question facing Lily, but it was hardly the most important. Something was still bothering him, and Lily needed to know what it was.

"Oh, it's nothing," replied James, seeming to pull himself out of his reverie. But although the lines were softened, his eyes remained turbulent and he could not look at her. Before she could pry further, however, they reached the portrait hole. "Ready to face the troops?" he asked wryly, gesturing towards the Fat Lady and muttering the password.

Grinning slightly, Lily clambered through the hole. Perhaps unsurprisingly, she was immediately assailed by a series of questions and someone – possibly Marlene – dragged her to an empty sofa. Once settled, the brunette returned to her own seat. James slumped on the same sofa, looking weary.

"Where were you?" demanded Mary, blond curls in disarray. Unless Lily was very much mistaken, her friend had been running her hand through her hair in anxiety.

_I lost a glove_, Lily repeated. To her amusement, Mary and Marlene shared a look of pure exasperation.

"Sounds pretty typical," said Remus, smiling faintly. On his other side, Peter copied his expression and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Predictably, Sirius was there to lower the tone.

"Lies," teased Sirius. For a brief second, Lily's stomach dropped. Thankfully, Sirius' next comments moved the conversation far away from Severus. "Little Evans was blatantly hooking up with some guy!" He paused for a moment, enjoying Lily's embarrassment and relishing her blushes. "Was it… Stork?"

_Sirius! _exclaimed Lily, painfully aware that her cheeks were reddening. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw James watching her. The problem with Sirius, she thought irritably, was that he had an uncanny knack of bringing up uncomfortable truths. Trust Sirius to have noticed her previous, highly unfortunate, infatuation with Matthew. _For your information_, _I turned him down_, she said with dignity.

"Of course you did," said Sirius lightly. Fuming, Lily waved her wand, intending to defend herself. But she never got that far. Without warning, she felt something touch her shoulder and nearly leapt out of her skin. Clearly, her paranoia needed some attention. Turning, she was intrigued to see a sprig of floating plant floating above her head.

_What is it? _

"Mistletoe," explained Sirius, an odd note of smugness in his voice. Heart sinking, Lily examined her situation. As she watched, the mistletoe proceeded to entwine itself around her.

And James.

"What did you _do_?" asked James, his voice dangerous.

"Nothing." James snorted at Sirius' words, attempting to extricate himself from the plant's tendrils.

"Nothing, my arse," he muttered, giving up on his escape. "How do we get out of this?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"If it was obvious, I wouldn't be asking, would I?"

"You have to _kiss_."

There was a ringing silence. Even the background noise of the common room seemed deadened, muted by the rising tension. Unwillingly, Lily looked up at James. The intensity of his gaze took her breath away.

"Fine." There was something in his voice that Lily couldn't recognise. In spite of herself, she leaned forward. Mary and Marlene were looking at her intently, and the growing realisation on the former's face made Lily's stomach churn and her cheeks glow.

But that may have been her close proximity to James.

She braced herself. On some level, she was worried about her reaction. She had no way of knowing James' real feelings and a public kiss in the middle of the Gryffindor common room was not the way she would have chosen to find out. Furthermore, the mistletoe was tightening its grip and was becoming rather painful.

_Just get this thing off of me! _There was a round of amused titters at this. Even James' expression lightened.

"With pleasure, my lady," he said, giving her a crooked grin. Lily felt a surge of triumph; her James had returned. "Just before we go the whole hog, though…" said James, looking suddenly mischievous. Without warning, he swooped down – well, as much as the mistletoe would allow – and pecked her on the cheek. Her skin tingled at his touch, but she also felt disappointed. Was that it? To her secret satisfaction, however, nothing happened. In fact, the plant's tendrils tightened and James and Lily were pulled tighter together.

"Nice try," sniggered Sirius. James rolled his eyes and turned to Lily.

"Just pretend I'm the Giant Squid," he said, winking. Lily was entirely confused, before remembering their earlier conversation.

_Well, it might make it more tolerable I suppose… _

James smirked slightly, making his disagreement quite plain. "Keep telling yourself that, Evans."

"As fun as this is," interrupted Sirius, "the procrastination ends here. Kiss the girl, Prongs!" James gazed at Sirius, as though weighing up his chances, but a more insistent tug by the mistletoe seemed to change his mind.

Something appeared to alter in his eyes.

Leaning down, he let his lips brush Lily's. It was the lightest of touches, so light that Lily could've sworn she imagined it. But she hadn't. Her heart was beating deliciously fast and it was with great difficulty that she stopped herself leaning in. Her thoughts felt oddly sluggish and by the time her mind had caught up with her mouth it was too late.

"Not bad, Potter."

There was a stunned silence.

Even thicker than the one that preceded it, the quiet swelled. In spite of the myriad conversations going on around them, Lily truly believed they could've heard a pin drop. Although the fire burned as merrily as ever, the crackling appeared to have died away and the shadows seemed darker. It was an oddly dramatic tableau. Silently, Lily cursed her carelessness, not least because she'd wanted to see James' reaction to their kiss. More importantly, however, she worried about Severus. What if he was discovered? Every eye was focused on Lily. Sirius' jaw had dropped and Peter had nearly fallen out of his seat. For a long moment, nobody spoke.

And then they erupted.

"Your voice," gasped Mary, "it's back!" Her beautiful face split into a wide smile and she flung herself at the redhead. As she patted Mary gingerly on the back, Lily tried to look as stunned as everyone else.

"Yeah," she replied weakly, attempting a shocked expression.

"But… how?" asked Marlene.

"No idea."

"Clearly, Prongs' kissing skills really _are _all they're hyped up to be," Sirius said, smirking slightly. Despite herself, Lily quirked an eyebrow.

"What do they say exactly?" she queried, trying not laugh.

"That he's _magical_," sang Sirius cheekily. Very wisely, he darted away from James and hid behind Remus, correctly interpreting the danger signs.

"Shut up, Padfoot."

Sirius, however, completely disregarded James. Making sure he had everyone's attention, a difficult feat considering the level of excitement pervading his friends, he launched into his next theory. "Considering that _I _hexed the mistletoe, I think it's only fair that I claim the credit for Lily's recovery…"

At this, everyone burst into a torrent of conversation, arguing playfully about the medicinal uses of kissing. Giggling at Sirius' suggestion that an issue like that needed careful research, Lily chanced a glance at James. He was the only one not joining in and was looking increasingly preoccupied. For several awful minutes, Lily wondered if their almost-kiss had upset him, but then commonsense kicked in. James had been quiet ever since he found her. Lily was dying to know what was wrong. He couldn't suspect anything, could he? Ideally, she'd ask him about it. Surrounded by her friends, however, Lily couldn't see how she'd talk to him alone.

As she sat there dithering, James took matters out of her hands. Meeting Lily's emerald eyes, he cleared his throat. "As fun as the dissection of my kissing prowess is," he said, "I think Lily needs to inform Dumbledore about her progress." Reluctantly, the little group agreed. Rising to his feet, James headed determinately towards the portrait hole and gestured for Lily to follow him. Lily's sense of foreboding increased.

His smiles had vanished, replaced by a steely mask.

Struggling out of Sirius' reach, and sharing a reassuring look with Remus, Lily followed James out of the common room. Without meaning to, she held her breath. They walked down the corridors in silence, heading towards Dumbledore's office. James' shoulders were hunched and his stance screamed worry, even if his face didn't. His coldness reminded her of their argument in the Entrance Hall and she didn't like it.

"James?" she ventured timidly, reaching out to touch his arm. He turned quicker than she would have thought possible. He caught her hand, pinning her against the wall, and stared straight at her. In other circumstances, Lily's hidden romantic would have swooned. But it was abundantly clear that James had other intentions and his next words made her blood run cold.

"What did Snape _do_?"

**A/N: In case anybody is worried, I do _not _consider that their "first kiss". When it actually happens, it will be suitably romantic, I promise!**


	23. Trust

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and anything you recognise is hers. Sigh. As always, I'd like to say a huge thank you to my beta Black Rose Blue and all the wonderful people who have reviewed/favourited/alerted. I love you all! I'd also like to say thank you to Angie Kangaroo for some very lovely, inspirational words - this chapter's for you :) Finally, the metaphorical cookies for the 120th reviewer go to MissDominiqueLysander. **

**Now, without further ado, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy!  
**

"_What did Snape _do_?"_

* * *

She had been dreading this question, but she still tried to dodge it.

"I don't know what -" she began, without the slightest excuse prepared. But James cut her off.

"Don't play that game with me, Lily," he said angrily. "I _know_ Snape was there. How could you, after everything?" Now, Lily was furious.

"What do you mean, _after everything_?" she hissed. "I know that you've never had an easy history and he's made some awful choices, but -"

"Awful choices?" echoed James incredulously. He removed a hand from her wrist, running it through his mop of hair. "Lily, he's a Death Eater!" At his words, Lily was dismayed to feel the beginnings of tears. Blinking rapidly, she went on the defensive. All the stresses of the last few weeks, not to mention her confrontation with Severus and her kiss with James, had taken their toll and she had reached breaking point. Like their fight in the Entrance Hall, she knew she was overreacting. But James had crossed a line.

"This isn't about his… his politics; this is about your hatred of him! You never gave him a chance, never!" Thoughts that hadn't crossed Lily's mind in months were resurfacing, ancient grievances rising rapidly to the surface.

"Maybe we didn't give him the chance he deserved, but he never gave us a reason to trust him," said James bitterly. "But you're wrong, this isn't about Snape. Not at all."

"What _is_ it about, then?" Lily sneered, doing a passable imitation of Avery.

"You." There was a ringing silence.

"What, I don't understand…"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lily's anger faltered, replaced by a fleeting bemusement.

"Tell you what?"

"About whatever happened earlier. I'm not an idiot; I know Snape did something to help you. I knew he was there, alright? Ignoring Padfoot's idiotic quips about kissing, it's the only thing that makes sense. So, why couldn't you tell me?" James stood there, panting heavily. Looking at him, Lily took in his flushed cheeks and overly bright eyes. Realisation dawned, cold and clear.

"You… you thought I didn't trust you?" She felt slightly stymied. Was _this _what it was all about?

"Do you?" James stared at her, long and hard. For a heartbeat, Lily saw insecurity and doubt reflected in his hazel eyes. It was an odd moment. During their acquaintance, James Potter had been many things. At one time or another, James had been irritating, arrogant, confident, encouraging and always, _always_, ready for a challenge. But Lily had never seen him like this.

And she hated it. Summoning up the words from deep inside her, she returned his stare, measure for measure.

"Of course I trust you," she said, placing a finger on James' lips when he began to speak. "I will always trust you. But this wasn't my secret to tell and I was… I was scared of the consequences. You _are_ honest and brave, though, and I would trust you with my life." Lily paused for a second, taking in James' reaction. Most of the time, James' emotions were written all over his face and tonight was no different. The anger was dying, she noted with relief, and he seemed lighter. Although they'd sounded trite to Lily, for mere words could not express how much he meant to her, she'd clearly said the right thing. Nervously, she gave him a tiny smile and removed her hand from his mouth.

"Thanks," he said gruffly, releasing his grip on her other wrist and stepping away. Lily watched him move with regret, but accepted it wasn't a rejection. James just needed time to think. Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long. "I'm… I'm sorry," James said finally, looking back up at her.

"You don't have to apologise," Lily replied, "you weren't _entirely_ in the wrong. For once." She smirked slightly as she said this, lessening the sting of her words. More than anything, she wanted a return to the friendly banter that typified their relationship. "I… I shouldn't have pretended, not with you – you deserved better than that. Although…" she said, asking the question that had bothered her for a while. "How_ did_ you know Severus was there? How do you always know where to find someone?" She looked at him with frank curiosity.

"Marauder secret," said James, tapping his nose significantly. "If I told you, I'd probably have to kill you."

Lily snorted. "I'd like to see you try." Shooting her a crooked smile, and quite clearly demonstrating his disagreement, James gestured down the corridor. "What?" she asked, completely nonplussed.

"Dumbledore's office?"

"You were _serious_ about that?"

"Oh, yeah," said James, "I think you should tell him you've got your voice back, I mean, he _has_ been trying to cure you. Remember?" Lily nodded. And promptly swore.

"Damn," she hissed, feeling panic-stricken. "What do I tell Dumbledore? If I tell him Severus helped me, what'll happen?" Although she respected and admired the Headmaster, she'd always felt he had a certain Machiavellian streak. She didn't doubt that Dumbledore would manipulate Severus into helping them, but at what cost? She looked at James, forgetting, in the heat of the moment, that she hadn't yet confirmed his suspicions about Severus.

"So, Snape _did_ help you, then?" asked James, quick-witted as usual. Once more, Lily cursed her carelessness. What sort of secret-keeper was she? The dark-haired boy must have sensed her consternation, however, because he added a final few sentences. "Don't worry," he said, "I sort of guessed. When I saw you on the… I mean, when I knew you were together… I knew he was either hexing or helping you." Suddenly, things clunked into place and she ignored his obvious stumble for his later revelation.

"You thought he was attacking me?" It all made sense, now. She'd thought his anxiety was rather extreme, but if he'd believed Lily was in danger… Well, he'd have moved heaven and earth to reach her.

"Yeah," James said, pausing briefly. He looked at her, eyes partially obscured by hair and shadow. "Is he… is he thinking of leaving Voldemort?" He watched Lily closely.

"No." It was only one word, but it held a wealth of meaning.

"Oh, Lils." Looking at her, James looped his arm through hers. "I've always thought he was a greasy git, and there's no point pretending otherwise, but I know how much he meant to you and… and I'm sorry it ended like this. Really." Surprisingly, James' brutal honesty helped and Lily gave him a watery smile. In spite of herself, in spite of everything, Lily couldn't help but lean on him, revelling in his nearness. Beside her feelings for him, his presence provided a warmth and security that Lily sorely needed.

His advice, when he finally gave it, was also appreciated. "I can't pretend to understand your reasoning, but – if you're set on hiding Snape's role in all of this – I would tell him that you felt someone lift the curse, but you have no idea who. He'll probably know you're lying, but I don't think he'll force it out of you."

"Thank you," Lily murmured, appreciating his reasoning and candour. They began to walk down the corridor, bathed in torch light. Although there was an aura of awkwardness, the tension levels were rapidly falling and Lily could sense they were slowly returning to normality. Well, as normal as they ever had been. Without warning, however, James gave a yelp. "Wait, does this mean you can tell us who jinxed you?" He looked excited.

"I can try," Lily said doubtfully. Opening her mouth, she tried to say Avery's name. Nothing whatsoever happened. No sound issued from her mouth and, for an awful moment, Lily feared the change was permanent. It was with some relief, therefore, that Lily began to speak again. "I think it's fairly safe to assume," she continued, hand massaging her throat, "that part of the curse remains."

"Figures," muttered James automatically. He chanced a glance at Lily, evidently wondering if she'd chastise him for his comment. But, in all honesty, Lily couldn't find it in herself to disagree. James was right; it _did _figure that Severus would protect his Death Eater friends. She was aware that Severus was playing a dangerous game, walking a perilous tightrope between good and evil. She wondered if his whole heart and soul would ever belong to Voldemort.

Before she became locked in the same hopeless cycle, Lily shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Tonight, Severus had told her of his intentions to remain a Death Eater. She had to accept that. As she stewed over this morbid thought, she dimly heard James give the gargoyle the password.

"Jelly slugs." Sparing a moment to consider Dumbledore's odd fascination with sweets, the pair stepped past the gargoyle and climbed the moving staircase. When they burst into the Headmaster's office, slightly out of breath, the man didn't even blink. His blue eyes were twinkling merrily and when he heard Lily's voice his smile grew wide. As Lily's story progressed, supplemented by James' interjections, the beaming expression did not falter. However, the twinkle was soon replaced with a shrewder look and Lily had the uncomfortable sensation that Dumbledore could see right through her. When she finished some ten minutes later, the elderly wizard sat in silence for a moment.

"Well, that was certainly an unexpected development," he concluded, "but nevertheless welcome." He twinkled kindly at them, before continuing. "I am, of course, grateful for all you have told me. If, for any reason, something has – shall we say – _slipped_ your mind, rest assured that my door is always open. But, for now, I am inclined to trust your judgement." The two Heads nodded mutely, fully aware that Dumbledore had noted their omissions, and made their way towards the staircase. They had taken his summary as a dismissal.

As Lily reached for the door-handle, however, Dumbledore called them back. "One final thing," he said, "I believe you have received an invitation to a certain meeting in January and I would be very pleased to see you there." After saying this, he returned his attention to the parchment on the desk and settled back in his chair. Beside him, the phoenix let out a low, musical note and Lily felt her racing heart calm.

"Yes, sir," replied James, vocalising Lily's agreement and turning to leave. This time, they knew the meeting was over. But as they left the office, and made their way back to Gryffindor tower, their thoughts were still busy. Although Lily had lots on her mind, she didn't feel the urge to talk. She was too busy processing the implications of Dumbledore's statements. If _Dumbledore_ was involved, it seemed increasingly likely that the meeting would be concerned with upcoming war. For Lily was under no illusions, war _was _coming, as surely as the Chudley Cannons would finish bottom of the league.

And as Lily tucked herself into bed that night, after skirting the errant mistletoe and Sirius' exuberant embraces, she steeled her resolve. As Hagrid had said, what was coming would come, and she would have to meet it when it did. Reaching over to turn off the light, her parting thought was slightly more whimsical.

All in all, she mused, it had been the most interesting of Christmas Eves.


	24. A Mysterious Meeting

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and anything you recognise is hers. Sigh. I'm sorry for the long gap between updates, but I hope this makes up for it. Huge thanks, as always, to my wonderful beta Black Rose Blue and all those lovely people who have favourited, alerted and reviewed this story. You truly inspire me and I love you all! **

After the eventful nature of Christmas Eve, the rest of the holidays passed quietly. After a raucous morning of present giving, the Gryffindors spent a lazy Christmas in the common room. Having overindulged at lunch, the resulting lethargy ensured that they did nothing more energetic than a round of Exploding Snap. Besides one memorable singeing of eyebrows, which left Sirius claiming his good looks were marred for life, the day was largely uneventful.

Lily was both amused and touched by her friends' gifts. They had clubbed together to buy her a delicate charm bracelet, decorated with tiny trinkets that reflected her relationship with each. Some, like Marlene's pie, were a simple acknowledgement of a longstanding friendship. Others, such as James' Giant Squid and Mary's snitch, were a result of in-jokes.

Upon handing her his charm, James grinned cheekily at Lily. "Now you've kissed me - "

"That wasn't a _real _kiss," interjected Sirius, "in fact, it was barely a peck! Not up to your usual standard, at all."

"Because you'd know all about that, Padfoot," quipped Remus, causing Peter to giggle and Mary to crook an eyebrow.

Disregarding theses interruptions, James continued. "As I was saying, now you've kissed me, I figured we needed to put this Giant Squid comparison to the test. Being a _gentleman_, I thought I'd let you kiss a metal version instead. Although you did express a preference for tentacles…" Snorting, Lily threw a cushion at him and bestowed a perfunctory kiss on the charm. As she'd suspected, James had a trick up his sleeve and the others were soon roaring with laughter. Upon her kiss, the silver began to morph under her fingers and the squid became a miniature James Potter, complete with sign. Peering at the miniscule print, Lily read aloud.

"If you're kissing a squid, you really _are _desperate." She paused, allowing the laughter to die, and delivered her riposte. "In case you were wondering, I still think the squid – even a metallic one – gives you a run for your money, Potter." Funnily enough, the laughter vanished from James' face and he didn't raise the subject again all afternoon. Lily rather suspected his ego had been bruised and felt she had won that particular bout of verbal sparring. During the exchange, Mary and Marlene's heads had swivelled between the two heads, as though they were watching a particularly tense tennis match, and Lily was resigned to a simple truth. They knew. The knowing glint in Mary's eye was almost unbearable and Lily was dreading the inevitable interrogation. All joking and teasing aside, Lily wondered whether James had given any serious thought to their almost-kiss. Aware of the girls' scrutiny, Lily still couldn't help watching James, an irrepressible facet of her personality dying to know how he felt about it.

About her.

In spite of this, however, it was a wonderful day and the return of Lily's voice was arguably the best present of all. She thought briefly of Severus. Would anyone give _him_ a present? But the one thing he craved from Lily, her acceptance of his Death Eater status, was the one thing she couldn't give. At this moment, a particularly lively game of cards captured her attention and she hastily sought to extinguish Sirius' smoking eyebrows, putting her worries about Severus to the back of her mind.

The last few days seemed to pass in a comfortable blur and, before she knew it, the next term had begun, bringing with it a flurry of students and homework. Lily was relieved to see that Sawyer's return heralded nothing remarkable; James appeared entirely unaffected by her presence and the two of them even had a few amicable conversations. Try as she might, Lily couldn't stem the flood of jealousy that engulfed her when this happened, but James showed no inclination to rekindle things with Sawyer and Lily tried to ignore the envy that flared whenever the brunette approached. When she eventually plucked up the courage to ask James about the split, the reply had been a facsimile of Sawyer's.

"We wanted different things," he said briefly, watching her with those hazel eyes.

"I'm glad," replied Lily without thinking, blushing a brilliant scarlet as the implication of her words sunk in. Hastily, she attempted to repair the damage. "I mean, I'm glad… I'm glad you're not hurt by it," she stuttered. James gave her an oddly speculative look, but nodded his gratitude. They sat in silence for a moment, the rosy hue fading from Lily's cheeks as the embarrassment subsided. Before the pause became too awkward, Lily changed the subject and the evening was spent rearranging the prefect schedule.

A spate of colds and flu had crippled their group of prefects and Remus' need to visit a sick mother was a further blow. Ever since Severus' malicious speculations, Lily couldn't shake the feeling that Remus' monthly absences were of a darker nature. He had never been particularly forthcoming about his mother's illness, despite his friendship with Lily, and the dark shadows which appeared under his eyes after every full moon were an obvious indicator of something more. Truthfully, beside her obvious concern for Remus' welfare, Lily couldn't care less if the mild, amusing boy was anything other than human. He was, first and foremost, her friend. What she did worry about, however, was the effect the condition could have upon his health and his place in society. Having faced her fair share of discrimination as a muggleborn, Lily couldn't begin to imagine the ostracism which resulted from a condition like Remus'. Despite her apprehension about Dumbledore's more Machiavellian tendencies, she felt a rush of affection for the eccentric headmaster. If what she suspected was true, the man had done an awful lot for her friend.

The old wizard, in actual fact, occupied much of Lily's thoughts in the next couple of weeks. The meeting, scheduled for January, was fast approaching and it was a regular topic of conversation. There was considerable debate about its nature – was it an official group?

"Well," declared Sirius, "it won't involve the Ministry. Any idiot can see that it's become compromised. Voldemort's spies are, no doubt, in every echelon of the system."

"Do you reckon Dumbledore has spies there, too?" asked Mary, looking thoughtful.

"He'd be stupid not to," replied Sirius bluntly. As the points were discussed, Lily chanced a glance at Marlene. Although she was far from recovered, Christmas had given her friend a definite boost and Lily had hoped it marked another turning point. The upcoming meeting, though, had affected Marlene badly. The chance to defy Voldemort, although something she dearly craved, brought back memories of David's death. The day after Alice sent another letter, detailing the time and place, seemed to serve as a trigger. Several times, Lily was awoken by Marlene's screams as she thrashed in the throes of a particularly terrifying nightmare. After this happened for the third time in a row, Mary and Lily took to casting silencing charms around the beds of Sawyer and Eliza. Frequently, they found themselves rocking Marlene back to sleep, wiping away the tears that coursed down her cheeks and singing lullabies. It may have sounded childish, but Mary possessed a lovely voice and it proved a most effective way of soothing their friend. Lily had, tentatively, enquired about Dreamless Sleep, but Marlene had refused, citing its addictive qualities.

By the time the meeting arrived, bringing with it the icy claws of January, the smudges underneath Marlene's eyes were almost as dark as Remus' and the others, truth be told, were faring little better. For one reason or another, each had been adversely affected by the Dark Arts and – like Marlene – seemed to have been disturbed by the upcoming gathering. It wasn't so much the meeting _itself_, but what it represented, Lily mused.

The night before the meeting was restless, and they all came down to breakfast weary and fatigued. Avery had haunted Lily's dreams last night and, judging by Mary's expression, had slipped into hers as well. Sirius, the white sheep of his family, was grumpy and irritable. His eyes kept straying towards the Slytherin table, looking, Lily knew, for his brother. Like Sirius, Lily surmised James' dreams had been focused around family, too. His parents were Aurors, and Lily knew his father had been injured in the line of duty. James didn't talk about it much, but Lily suspected it was one of the reasons for his sudden maturation. He had been exposed to the adult world and there was no escaping the change it had wrought upon him. Similarly, if her suspicions were correct, Remus had been thrown into a similarly dark existence. Only Peter had been largely unaffected, but his close friendship with the other Marauders meant he wasn't unaware of the Dark Arts' consequences.

All in all, it was not the cheeriest of groups that set off for the Hog's Head. Huddled in scarves and gloves, for the wind was still bitterly cold and the snow thick upon the ground, the friends trudged through the picturesque village. It was a beautiful scene, reminiscent of a Christmas card, yet there was something fundamentally wrong. It took Lily a few minutes to register, but eventually she twigged. Whilst the location appeared calm and serene, the inhabitants were not. Many faces were twisted with worry and some muttered only the tersest of greetings. It was deeply unsettling. Glancing at her friends, Lily was unsurprised to see similar expressions. Mary was clinging to Marlene and Peter seemed to be _purposefully_ hiding in Sirius and James' shadow. Remus had separated himself slightly from the group, as though he thought he didn't belong. Exchanging a look with James, who was watching the Gryffindor prefect with a perturbed air, Lily sped up. Before Remus could protest, she linked arms with him and deliberately slowed her pace. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw James give an approving smile and her heart swooned slightly.

By the time they reached the Hog's Head, feeling fairly frozen, their little group had drawn closer together. Lily leant against James, allowing a fraction of her worry to show. This was it, she thought suddenly. She knew she wasn't over emphasising this meeting's importance. By entering the pub, by attending the meeting, Lily was pledging her support for Dumbledore. And her opposition to Lord Voldemort. Every fibre of her being told her that this was a life-changing decision. Except, it wasn't really a decision, was it? There was only _one_ course of action in Lily's eyes.

They paused at the door, gazing at each other for a long moment. Without speaking, they formed a circle, placing their hands in the middle. It may have seemed a pointless gesture, but it felt _right_. As she felt their warmth through her gloves, Lily experienced a surge of affection for all of them. Despite the gravity of the situation, she smiled. Then, swallowing hard, James and Lily pushed the door open and walked inside.

They had made their choice, and the consequences would be more devastating, and more important, than anyone could have predicted.


	25. Boy Scouts

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I merely play with her creation. Huge thanks to my beta Black Rose Blue and all the lovely people who have favourited/alerted/reviewed this story. It means more than I can say. On a lighter note, I'd like to offer the traditional, metaphorical cookies for the 150th reviewer. We're so close, and it would be rather fantastic if we could manage it. So, without further ado, here's the next chapter. Enjoy! **

The scene which greeted them was decidedly anticlimactic. As they entered, brushing snow from their coats, they looked around. As usual, the bar was murky and dank. Not for the first time, Lily wondered at the location. Entirely disreputable, the Hog's Head hosted a questionable clientele. In one corner, a group of men were arguing over a small stack of money. Every now and then, one would reach for the pile, his hand slapped away by an associate. The barman, holding a cracked glass, was eyeing them sourly. Absently, he scrubbed with a filthy rag. As they entered, his stare flickered towards the Gryffindors. A slight crease appeared in his forehead and he seemed to evaluate them. Avoiding the barman's gaze, Lily turned to James. He was their undisputed leader and Lily was out of her comfort zone.

"What do we do, now?" Lily muttered.

"I'm not entirely sure," admitted James, fixing Sirius with a questioning expression. The aristocratic boy shrugged.

"Don't look at me." Slightly exasperated, Lily felt a sudden flash of inspiration. Squaring her shoulders, and trying to act confident, she strode towards the bar. Meekly, the others followed. The floorboards creaked as they walked, and Peter tripped over a protruding nail with a sudden squeak. The group drew closer together.

"Excuse me," she said, wearing her sweetest smile and fiddling coyly with her plait. "I'm supposed to be meeting a friend to discuss wedding plans, has she arrived?"

"Name?" grunted the barman.

"Hers or mine?"

"Hers, of course. I couldn't care less about _your_ name." James bristled at his terseness, and Mary's eyes flashed. Even Lily, consummate defender of the misunderstood, was mildly affronted. Remembering his reputation, however, she didn't take it personally.

"Alice." The barman seemed to straighten up, eyes narrowing.

"I know the one," he said, his tone brusque.

"She's here?" interjected James, trying to sound calm. However, a faint quiver in his voice told a different story. Clearly, Lily wasn't the only one affected by their environment.

"Aye," he replied, wary. He cast the rowdy men another glare. "She told me someone was coming," he continued, abandoning his cleaning. "Didn't realise you'd be so… young," he said bitterly. Marlene's eyes widened at this, and Lily could tell that she was thinking of David. She gripped her friend's arm, watching as the boys bristled at the man's words.

"We're not young," retorted Sirius, anger marring his features. The barman didn't dignify this with a response, simply leading them through a door. He did, however, shake his head. Passing under a torch, his glasses turned opaque and his expression was hidden. Lily could've been wrong, but she fancied his face was pained.

Before she could examine him, they reached their destination. After climbing a flight of stairs, the barman pushed them towards another door.

"Good luck," he said, turning on his heel. Exchanging glances, Lily noted his parting words had unnerved the others. Peter had turned a funny colour and Remus had begun to distance himself again. Touching both on the arm, and reassured by their weak smiles, Lily proceeded to open the door.

As they bundled into the room, Lily caught a sudden movement. Without thinking, she drew her wand and cast a shield charm. The place was illuminated with light, her spell combining with the others' magic. It was smaller than the bar, wooden walls bowed with age and rot, and filled with a smattering of tables and chairs. The tension was so thick that Lily could've cut it with a knife. The distrust and suspicion was tangible, not least because a spell had just been hurled at them.

"Not bad," called a hoarse voice. "Guess you're not entirely useless."

"I could've told you that," rejoined another, female this time. She sounded smug and comfortingly familiar.

"Alice," Lily breathed, inordinately relieved. Her round faced friend sprang from her seat, dragging her back to a neighbouring chair. On her other side, Frank gave her a friendly grin. "Congratulations," whispered Lily, gazing appreciatively at Alice's ring.

"Thanks." Alice was positively glowing with happiness and Frank's face, usually solemn, radiated contentment.

"If you're _quite_ finished," said the same hoarse voice, "I'd like to get this meeting started. Unless someone knows something I don't - "

"Quite likely!" shouted a redheaded man, prompting a few gales of laughter. In this brief intermission, Lily took the opportunity to search for the older man. It wasn't difficult. A battered-looking wizard, covered in scars, was glowering at his heckler. He looked oddly familiar, but Lily couldn't place him.

"It's Mad-Eye Moody," hissed James, prompting startled gasps from the other Gryffindors.

"The _Auror_?" Mary replied, looking awestruck. Before the blonde could divulge her usual gossip, Lily trod on her foot. She had heard much about the famous dark wizard capturer, none of it complementary, and felt it was prudent to listen attentively. As his original test had already shown, Moody was not taking this lightly. Thankfully, Mary took the hint and, at that moment, Moody resumed his tirade.

"Thank you, Prewett, for that piece of _insight_," he said disapprovingly. "Now, as I was saying," he shot Prewett a challenging glance, "unless there's something I don't know, girlish gossip isn't going to defeat You-Know-Who; so, let's get this meeting started."

"Here, here," muttered Prewett ironically, sharing a grimace with another redheaded man. Judging by their identical appearances, Lily surmised they were twins. Her interest piqued, she tried to focus her attention on Moody. But it wasn't Moody who had commandeered the floor. Although it made perfect sense, Lily still experienced a jolt when Albus Dumbledore emerged from the shadows.

"As Alastor so kindly explained, we are not here on pleasant business. That is not to say, however, that Miss Cowley and Mister Longbottom do not deserve our congratulations," he twinkled benignly, awarding the couple a genuine smile. Alice and Frank sat a little straighter in their chairs. Dumbledore's acknowledgement clearly meant the world to them and Lily watched as Alice took Frank's hand in her own. The love they shared was palpable, and Lily couldn't help a tiny stab of jealousy and her thoughts veered dangerously close to James.

Shaking her head, she returned to their conversation. A shadow had passed across Dumbledore's face, diminishing the sparkle in his eyes, and he appeared sombre. "We have – as you can see – some new recruits." He inclined his head gravely in the Gryffindors' direction and Lily was very conscious of the stares focused upon her. "I realise they are young, but they have expressed a wish to join the fight and, as Alastor so succinctly demonstrated, are a talented group. I have, therefore, decided to accede to this request. Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore, beaming at the little group.

"This isn't a boy scouts' meeting, Albus," growled Moody from the corner, rapping his staff on the ground.

"I'm well aware of the fact," Dumbledore replied, unnervingly serene. "But Mister Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew are not boy scouts."

"Certainly not," exclaimed Sirius, affecting outrage. Despite the slightly awkward silence, Lily snorted at the mental image. "The Marauders are at your service, ladies and gentleman." He gave a sweeping bow and, quite suddenly, the ice was broken. The redheads seemed to recognise Sirius as one of their own, and they even congratulated Lily on her admittance, declaring her an honorary member of their ginger clan.

All in all, it was nothing like Lily had expected. However, it made total sense. The aura of paranoia was understandable, yet there was an undercurrent of camaraderie that Lily hadn't anticipated. The twins' heckling was just one example and the meeting was interspersed with light hearted teasing.

That didn't mean the evening was entirely jovial. Lily and her friends listened with growing horror to the reports of Voldemort's activities. Sirius' belief that the Ministry was compromised was validated and Remus looked increasingly uncomfortable when a woman named Hestia talked about werewolf involvement. Lily felt a pang of sympathy. If what she suspected was true, Remus was probably experiencing a wave of self loathing. Out the corner of her eye, Lily saw James smile reassuringly at Remus and felt another swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach. Why, in the name of _Merlin_, did he make her feel this way? Lily had no answers.

In truth, there were a lot of things Lily didn't know. The countless reports, on everything from werewolves to giants, demonstrated a gaping hole in Lily's awareness. The efficient division of responsibilities was slightly overwhelming. From the sounds of it, the Order members were involved in areas spanning both espionage and protection. As they organised shifts, Lily wondered if she and her friends would be called upon to help. Her question – well, one of them at least – was soon answered.

"I am sure," said Dumbledore lightly, blue eyes surveying the group, "that you are eager to take part. I must insist, however, that you refrain from these activities until you have left school." This statement appeared logical to Lily, who had been trying to juggle the logistics of curfew and clandestine missions, but some of the others looked outraged.

"We're not allowed to help?" asked James, sounding slightly angry. If Lily didn't know better, she could've sworn he was thinking of his father. She knew how desperately James wanted to right the wrongs of this world. It was one of the reasons she liked him so much.

"Not in that particular role," agreed Dumbledore. Sirius, too, opened his mouth in frustration. Before he could interject, though, the Headmaster cut across him. "There are, however, other services needed. Some supervision of your classmates, for example, would hardly go amiss. I have my suspicions about the Death Eaters within our student body, but without concrete proof I cannot act." Lily had the oddest sensation that Dumbledore was withholding something, but couldn't put her finger on it. Surely Dumbledore, the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared, could catch a few teenagers. Perhaps, thought Lily suddenly, it was about testing her friends' capabilities? Did Dumbledore want to stay his hand, allowing them to grow within the safer confines of Hogwarts? Or, another voice whispered, did he want the Gryffindors to convert them? Severus' face flashed into her mind and Lily felt a stab of sadness. If that was the case, Dumbledore's hopes were false. If _she _couldn't get Severus to change his mind, there was no way they could affect the others. However, this could be wild speculation. The myriad of possibilities made her head spin.

She was fairly certain, though, that there was more to it. Watching James, she saw he had a similarly pensive expression and their eyes met across the room. Lily's spine shivered and it was not an altogether unpleasant experience. He continued to hold her gaze, disregarding the enthusiastic assent of the others, and there seemed to be a wealth of meaning behind his eyes. His face quite clearly asked if she was buying Dumbledore's explanation. She gently shook her head, moving it a fraction of an inch either side.

Their silent conversation was interrupted by the scraping of chairs. Looking up, Lily was surprised to see that the meeting had ended. Her friends stared at them expectantly and Lily sensed it was time to go. Quickly embracing Alice, and waving goodbye to some of the others, they headed towards the door. Lily was aware of Alice shouting something after her, the word wedding clearly definable, and gave a joking salute in return. Without another word, the group left the meeting and traipsed downstairs.

As they walked through the bar, struggling to keep the urge to chatter under wraps, the barman stared at them. His earlier belligerence was gone, replaced by a less definable emotion. "I see you've not fled in fright," was his only response.

"Of course not," said Mary staunchly, to murmured agreement. Again, the barman did not reply. After waiting a few moments, during which he returned to his scrubbing, they gave up. Pushing the pub's door open, they went into the night. The snow was still thick and tiny flakes swirled around them, dancing their beautiful dance.

Despite everything that had transpired, Lily let herself revel in the falling snow. She slipped slightly on the ice and James reached out to steady her, his hand grasping hers. Catching her eye, he gave it a gentle squeeze before tucking it around his arm. She blushed slightly, even as her heart rate sped up. Sadly, neither the heat in her cheeks nor the cold in the air could numb her emotions. Her heart had broken for those blighted by the Death Eaters' actions and the rising anger was impossible to ignore. The extent of Voldemort's influence had shocked her to the core, yet the extraordinary courage and determination of the Order had given Lily hope. The Head Girl was still uneasy about Dumbledore's plans for her friends, but she knew they had to trust him. For what else could they do? She suspected they were outnumbered – quite significantly, in fact – but they were fighting for what was right.

And Lily knew that made all the difference in the world.

**A/N: Stay tuned for some romance in the next few chapters... ;)**


	26. Confusion and Concussion

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and none of her characters are mine. Sigh. On a more positive note, thank you, thank you, _thank you_ to all those lovely people who reviewed - we reached 150! It truly made my day. I take great pleasure in awarding the metaphorical cookies for 150th reviewer to Laveycee! I'm also hugely grateful to my amazing beta Black Rose Blue and to all the fantastic readers who have favourited/alerted this story. In case you didn't realise, I love you all! So, without further ado, enjoy the next chapter. **

In the aftermath of the meeting, everyone was a little quiet. Admittedly, this calm was punctuated by bursts of excited planning; but, on the whole, it was a sombre group of Gryffindors that wandered through the castle over the next few weeks. Truthfully, they had a lot on their minds. The war had never seemed so real, or so frightening, and they struggled to come to grips with the enormity of their actions. The barman's morbid words seemed to ring in their ears, and it was difficult to ignore his infectious pessimism.

Lily was certain they were doing the right thing, but she worried for her friends. Marlene was still withdrawn and Remus seemed intent on ostracising himself. She received no confirmation of his suspected werewolf status, but his reaction to Hestia's report was fairly damning. He had missed a few days of school around the full moon, too, ostensibly to visit his mother, and had returned wan and unresponsive. It was clear he had been doing some thinking, and repeatedly attempted to distance himself from their group. It bothered Lily immensely, and she wished Remus would confess the truth. However, she understood his reticence. Besides the Marauders, for there was no way he could've hidden it from _them_, Lily doubted he'd told anyone. Her heart ached for him and she wished there was something she could do. Thankfully, the boys appeared to have stopped this behaviour and soon Remus rejoined their group discussions, albeit reluctantly.

However, as with most things, distraction arrived. Unfortunately, it was a distraction Lily could have done without. For a variety of reasons.

Walking through the corridors, lost in preoccupied thoughts, Lily drew her robes closer together. It was February, and the castle still felt the weather's icy sting. She shivered, stuffing her hands in her pockets, and debated whether to cast a warming charm. She was shivering and seriously considered ignoring Filch's policy about magic in the corridors. Coming to a decision, for it really was cold, the Head Girl began to cast the spell.

But as she raised her wand, beginning to mutter the enchantment she - quite unexpectedly - heard her own name. She froze, although not from the cold. She knew that voice.

Feeling like a small child, Lily crept up to the classroom and placed an ear to the lock. She could've sworn the words had drifted from that room and was intensely curious. Sure enough, James' angry tones could be heard through the metal and wood.

"You want me to tell her? Are you mad? She'll kill me!"

"Well," drawled an unsympathetic voice, "you should have thought of that _before _you agreed to this." Lily felt her heart stutter. Why was James talking to Sawyer like that? And why had her name been invoked? Dread began to seep into her consciousness and, despite knowing the pitfalls of eavesdropping, Lily couldn't pull herself away. She was rooted to the spot.

"I thought you knew what you were doing," replied James plaintively. Lily couldn't see him, but she imagined him running his hand through his hair. As her stomach swooped at the thought, Lily spared a moment to acknowledge how pathetic she was. In the space of six months, James Potter had turned the hated gesture into something rather attractive. Even as these thoughts swept through her mind, Lily winced, accepting her pitiable position. Hurriedly, she returned her attention to the conversation.

And felt her stuttering heart stop.

"Lily's got to know about it, James. At some point, she's going to find out about our relationship. The truth, mind, not the story we've concocted. No relationship can be based on lies." Upon hearing this, Lily experienced the very strong desire to flee the scene, yet she couldn't bring herself to move. Her thoughts were a jangled mess.

One thing was clear, though. Sawyer and James' break-up had not been as simple as she had supposed. In fact, it was sounding increasingly complex. Questions chased themselves around Lily's brain, her entire being turning cold at their implications. Were Sawyer and James still together? The conversation certainly suggested it, but why had they lied in the first place? Angry tears began to form in the corner of Lily's eyes as a thought she hadn't entertained in months crossed her mind.

He knew.

The despair she had felt on the previous occasion returned, with a ferocity that took her breath away. Had this all been a ploy, then, to stop a jealous Lily ruining James' _precious _relationship with _precious _Sawyer? Had all those special moments, that kiss, meant nothing to James? Steeling herself, and quite forgetting her earlier qualms, Lily continued to listen.

"But... but she's going to be hurt... angry..." James seemed to have trouble forming sentences, and Lily experienced a surge of savage glee. She was glad he felt guilty. She was not naturally vindictive, but if the pair had been stringing her along… Well, there was a reason redheads were reputed to have a sharp temper and Lily, at that moment, embodied it. Apparently Sawyer agreed with Lily's irritation, because there was a rather cynical chuckle.

"Oh, James," she said, tone demonstrating amusement. "You didn't think you could get away with not telling her, did you?"

"I hoped," mumbled James, clearly uncomfortable at Sawyer's mockery. Not for the first time, Lily questioned his involvement with the brunette. Any fool could see that he was better than that! But these thoughts led down a dangerous road, and Lily wasn't ready for it. Instead, she listened to Sawyer's parting words.

"If Lily is half the witch you claim she is, then she'll understand. After all," Sawyer's laugh was derisive, "she does seem rather smitten with you." Lily's simmering anger seemed to explode at this and, tears pouring down her face, she tried to flee.

But as Fate would have it, and in cruel imitation of that night in the Astronomy Tower, Lily tripped over a suit of armour. With an almighty crash, Lily went flying, crumpling to the floor. She hit her head on the cold, flagstones and small lights seemed to flicker before her eyes. Her skull felt as though it was splitting and the smallest movement caused her great pain. Every part of her mind was urging to run - an ominous silence had fallen in the other room - but her body objected strenuously. Resignedly, sight slightly blurry, she squinted at the door. Her head was pounding and her anger, temporarily muted, was returning. She felt stripped of her inhibitions and was quite prepared to give James Potter a piece of her mind.

She didn't have to wait long.

With a sickening sense of déjà vu, Lily watched James exit the classroom. His words, when they came, were achingly familiar.

"Are you... Lily?" James' shock was palpable. "What... What are you doing here?"

A million caustic responses were on the tip of Lily's tongue, but her brain was oddly sluggish and she contented herself with a scowl. James peered at her, concern etched upon his handsome face. When an answer was not forthcoming, James rephrased his earlier question.

"Are you alright?"

"Besides the fact I've fallen on my arse?" asked Lily, trying to remain calm. Now, the words seemed to trip from her tongue, beyond her control and ready to start a fight. James looked mildly shocked at her language, but realised there were more pressing issues.

"Yeah," he said sheepishly, "besides that." He began shifting his weight from side to side, fidgeting under her unyielding glare.

"Well," began Lily, with awful sarcasm, "there is the small manner of my best friend keeping secrets from me."

James' face turned ashen. Still handsome, he looked pale and with great difficulty he managed to choke out a reply. Looking from the door to Lily, a dawning realisation seemed to occur.

"You... You heard?"

"Yes, I heard," Lily snarled, throwing aside all pretence. Her feeling of betrayal was palpable. "I know all about you and Sawyer, James! Why did you lie to me? I thought we could trust each other with anything, _anything_ - didn't we learn anything from the bloody Severus debacle?" James' eyebrows rose at her uncharacteristic swearing, but he wisely refrained from interrupting her. She didn't know why, but the connection between her brain and mouth seemed entirely faulty and she couldn't stop the words tumbling from her. "But," she continued bitterly, "I guess Sawyer's more important, huh?"

"No, I… just, no… Lily," stuttered James, his anxiety palpable. "It's not like that, I swear-"

"Yeah, because your word is worth _so_ much these days," sneered Lily. What was the matter with her? She was furious and hurt, and quite rightly so. But she didn't mean the things she said and her mouth, once again, seemed to be working of its own accord. Her head was still aching and she struggled to focus on what James was saying. His eyes were flashing, and he looked almost hurt.

"You don't mean that," he said softly, as though willing it to be true. "You _can't_ mean that." For a moment, Lily wavered and her mind felt clearer. But then another wave of pain hit, and she gave a taut nod. Flooded by anger, Lily clambered to her feet and made to leave the scene. She walked a few steps. Images of James and Sawyer flashed before her eyes, each picture more compromising than the last, and her heart tightened.

She wobbled.

Suddenly, the world began to spin. Her legs started to give way and her surroundings seemed to blur. The suit of armour became a silvery line and James' face slid out of sight. With a small cry, she hit the floor, limbs splayed. Something was terribly wrong with her head and she was vaguely conscious of concerned voices in an awful cacophony of noise. On some level, she realised she'd fallen harder than she'd thought.

"I didn't mean it," she muttered blindly, over and over again. She didn't know where she was or what was happening, but she knew she had to say it, had to tell him.

"I know," someone whispered. The sense of déjà vu was strong once more, mysterious arms wrapping themselves around her body, and Lily never wanted to lose this sense of security. She grabbed wildly at her protector and refused to let go, grasping handfuls of material.

Blackness was crawling at the edges of her vision and Lily, safe in those arms, knew it was alright to embrace it.

So she did.

**A/N: Please, don't hate James! I promise there is more to the story than meets the eye...**


	27. Epiphany

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I merely play with her creation. Thank you, as always, to my fantastic beta Black Rose Blue and all the lovely people who have favourited/alerted/reviewed this story. It means more than I can say. In other news, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

For the second time that year, Lily awoke in the Hospital Wing. It took a moment to register her surroundings, but the realisation was followed with a swift grown. Rapidly, memories of her earlier experiences returned, accompanied by a splitting headache and a rising anger. Not for the first time, Lily cursed her clumsiness. As images rushed through her mind, the urge to throttle James Potter grew stronger and she regretted – more than anything – her mistimed fall.

With increasing embarrassment, Lily recalled their conversation and her face flushed. Her lapse in control was highly mortifying, but she couldn't honestly say he didn't deserve her words. Her cheeks reddened still further as she remembered the way she had clutched at his robes, pathetically whispering an unwarranted apology.

Whatever she'd said, she _had _meant it. Hadn't she?

Deciding that her face was red enough, Lily tore her thoughts away from James and gingerly tried to move. This was a mistake. The stabbing pains increased and she couldn't prevent a slight gasp escaping her lips. Dizziness overcame her and she relaxed into her pillows, resigned to inertia. In no time at all, Madam Pomfrey bustled over, pursing her lips in disapproval.

"You shouldn't be moving," she scolded, smoothing Lily's bedcovers. "Not with a concussion like yours." Deciding Lily's bed was satisfactorily tidy, the matron withdrew her wand and began a series of diagnostic charms. A wave of déjà vu hit Lily at that moment, and it was with great difficulty that Lily dragged herself back to the present.

"I have a concussion?" Lily echoed, pieces falling into place.

"Yes, indeed, and a fairly severe one at that." Madam Pomfrey paused in her administrations, wand held absently in the air. "It was a good thing Mr Potter brought you in, or you might've sustained some serious damage. I must say," she continued, "this is getting to be quite a habit of yours. Clearly, Mr Potter is a bad influence on you." Lily nodded with savage agreement, barely suppressing a scowl at the mention of James' name. It wasn't _her_ fault that James possessed the uncanny ability to find her in the worst situations. Come to that, it wasn't _her_ fault that his stupidity wound her up so much that she couldn't stay on her feet. Not for the first time, Lily resisted the urge to curse James Potter. Pathetically, she still sought a reasonable explanation for his actions, but she knew it was hopeless. Perhaps, he _was _a toerag after all.

Struggling against the temptation to glower at everyone and everything, Lily permitted Madam Pomfrey to finish her diagnosis. Her final decision, bed rest, was met with a combination of exasperation and relief. On one hand, Lily was a highly active person and hated any sort of confinement. On the other, however, bed rest provided her with ample opportunity to avoid James. Although, after the conversation she'd overheard and subsequent events, she wasn't sure if James would visit anyway. Even she wasn't _that_ unlucky…

Or so she thought.

Less than a minute later, Madam Pomfrey informed Lily that James wanted to see her. Stubbornly, and ignoring the twisting sensation in her stomach, Lily muttered that her head hurt too badly for visitors and turned away from the matron.

Listening intently, for an irrepressible part of her still yearned to see James, she tried to hear his conversation with Madam Pomfrey. She couldn't pick out individual words, but the matron's no-nonsense tone was becoming increasingly stern, provoked by James' indignant protestations. After a while, their argument seemed to peter out and Lily heard a door slam. Her heart seemed to tighten, but she resolutely ignored it. She was furious with James Potter, and no amount of wishful thinking or pleading could change that fact.

But her heart continued to ache all the same.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and cold. Unwilling to leave her sanctuary, Lily dawdled, taking an inordinate time to get ready. Before she could fabricate a return of symptoms, her calm was interrupted by an excited yelp.

"Lillikins!" cried Sirius, bounding over the bed and scooping her into a hug. Still woozy, Lily felt her legs begin to buckle and was relieved by Remus' timely intervention.

"Padfoot," Remus implored, catching Lily before she collapsed. "We're here to _remove_ Lily from the Hospital Wing, not put her in it!"

"Oh, yeah," replied Sirius unconcernedly. Smirking broadly, he turned to Lily. "So, are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," muttered the redhead, steadying herself. Unless she was very much mistaken, the two Marauders had an ulterior motive. Suspiciously, she allowed them to accompany her from the Hospital Wing. Pausing to thank Madam Pomfrey, she chanced a glance at the pair. Sure enough, they were exchanging loaded looks and muted whispers. As soon as Lily's gaze fell upon them, though, both feigned innocence. On Remus' face, this was almost believable. Sirius, however, was a lost cause.

Resigning herself to the worst, Lily left the Hospital Wing and headed towards Gryffindor tower. As she walked, trying to ignore a slightly sore head, the two boys followed in her wake. She was on tenterhooks. On some level, she wanted to know why James had sent them, for she was under no illusion, James _had_ sent them. Everything from their furtive glances to Sirius' inane whistling screamed their guilt. Finally, when Lily thought she could stand it no longer, Sirius brought the subject up. In his characteristically blunt way, he wasted no time.

"So, still mad at Prongs?" he said lightly, as though commenting on the weather.

"Not that it's any of your business," began Lily threateningly, "but yes." Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Of course it's my business, he's like my brother!" Remus seemed uneasy, but before he could interject, Sirius saw fit to continue. "And I don't want my almost-sister-in-law to hate my almost-brother." Remus' face paled, but Lily took longer to piece his words together. When his explanation eventually made sense, Lily couldn't restrain her derision.

"For marriage to occur, I'm pretty sure that both parties have to talk to each other."

"From that," said Remus tentatively, "can we assume you're not planning to… _discuss_ things with James?" Lily snorted.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"But… why?" whined Sirius, evidently displeased.

"Because," said Lily, pausing for dramatic effect, "James Potter is an insensitive, lying idiot and I am not, I repeat _not_, going to have any kind of relationship with him." She paused for a moment, breathing heavily. Until she'd said it out loud, she hadn't realised how much she'd wanted that relationship. But James had ruined everything. "Plus," she added bitterly, "I'm pretty sure James would have issues with the whole matrimony thing, too." The dreaded images of James and Sawyer floated into her mind once more and she pushed them away, trying not to admit how much they hurt.

"I wouldn't bet on it," muttered Sirius. Even Remus looked tempted to agree, but quailed under Lily's threatening stare.

"Oh, don't pretend that you didn't know about him and Sawyer!" Lily said angrily, furious with Sirius, now, as well.

"Lily." They stopped in the hallway, Sirius aristocratic features morphing into some resemblance of seriousness. "I know it's hard to believe right now, but James doesn't feel that way about Sawyer. Trust me." For a moment, his expression was so earnest that Lily was tempted to believe him. Then, reality struck home.

"Yeah, right," she mumbled, attempting to walk down the corridor. To her surprise, Remus – nice, kind Remus – pulled her back.

"Listen to Sirius, Lily," he advised. Crossing her arms tightly, Lily glared at Sirius.

"Well?"

"Remember Christmas Eve?" asked Sirius quickly, clearly determined to take advantage of her momentary silence. Lily gave a curt nod. How could she forget? Everything about that day had given her the impression – wrongly, it would seem – that James might return her feelings. "When I jinxed the mistletoe… I," Sirius stumbled slightly over his words, and Lily felt mildly amazed by his lack of eloquence. Sirius Black, master of all mayhem, didn't stammer. After clearing his throat nervously, Sirius continued. "I made sure it would only work on couples that had reciprocated feelings for each other." Lily's arms were folded tighter than ever, but her mind began to whir. Headache momentarily forgotten, she tried to process this new information. Despite everything, a tiny piece of hope fluttered in her chest. Did he like her after all? Her face must have betrayed her mixed feelings, for Remus waded in on Sirius' side of the debate.

"So, you see, James _does_ care for you." He looked anxious, almost adorably so, and Lily felt her heart begin to melt. But then the sound of James and Sawyer's voices drifted into her head again and ice seemed to flood her veins.

Whatever he felt, James had _lied _to her. After all his remonstrations about the incident with Severus, he had _lied _to her. Her resolve hardened. She was determined to lay into James Potter, and she didn't need to have a conversation with his lackeys.

"Look," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "I… I can't do this." Sirius looked ready to object, but Remus shushed him. "Regardless of his feelings, James _lied_ to me. I… I just want to be alone, alright?" Resisting the urge to cry, Lily stormed off. Behind her, she could hear Remus and Sirius converse in agitated whispers, but – thankfully – they made no attempt to follow.

What Lily didn't expect, however, was to hear another voice call her name, one she'd taken great pains to avoid.

"Lily! Wait, Lily!" It was James. A jumble of emotion, Lily whirled around. There, face stricken, was James Potter. Breathless, he ran to catch up with her. As far as she could see, he had appeared out of nowhere. Funnily enough, this simple fact was enough to temper her other emotions and allow her to focus on one.

Anger.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" she snarled. Catching sight of his guilty expression, she made another leap in intuition. He'd been following her. She didn't know how, but she'd bet every galleon she had that he'd been eavesdropping on their conversation. Before she knew what she was doing, she had drawn her wand and cast a spell. She'd had enough of being the helpless damsel in distress.

With a strangled yell, James was hanging by his ankle as his wand clattered to the ground. James Potter was a great duelist, but an angry Lily Evans was quicker. Catching sight of Remus and Sirius, still watching nervously, she gestured for them to get lost. They didn't need telling twice. Once they'd disappeared, she returned her attention to James. The desire to leave him hanging was quite strong, but she reigned herself in.

In that moment, she almost loathed James Potter. Not for his actions, which were fairly aggravating, but because he made her feel things so acutely. That had always been their problem, realised Lily suddenly. No one had ever made her feel so much and – somehow – she'd fallen for the boy who made her feel like that. This epiphany was terrifying, and it took a second for Lily to compose herself. She was in so much trouble. No matter how James treated her, she still wanted more.

Even if he was an idiot.

In the meantime, James' face had turned scarlet. Blood had rushed to his head and he looked ridiculously uncomfortable. "Lily," he muttered weakly, "I'm sorry."

"Oh, you're _sorry_ are you?" challenged Lily, idly twirling her wand. Despite her hopeless feelings for him, she was still furious. "I would accept your apology, but that would mean that I knew what you'd done. And, somehow, you haven't told me yet." Lily didn't know why she wanted the grisly details, but she still clung to the hope of a rational explanation.

"I promise you," blurted out James, face growing redder by the moment, "there's nothing going on between me and Sawyer. Nothing!" Lily wanted to believe him, but his lies kept haunting her.

"Then why did she tell you to stop lying to me?" she demanded, finally releasing him from the spell. James clattered to the floor, but clambered to his feet as quickly as he could. Clearly, Quidditch had done wonders for his stamina.

"Because…" James trailed off, desperately trying to find the words. "Look," he said, changing tack at the speed of light, "I don't want to do this here."

"Where'd you want to do this, then?" countered Lily, unimpressed with his stalling.

"Hogsmede," he replied wildly.

"Why on earth," said Lily flatly, "would I want to go to Hogsmede with you? What's wrong with this nice, entirely empty corridor?" She ignored the pounding of her heart as she said this, aware that a trip to Hogsmede would have made her pathetically giddy in any other circumstance.

"It's not… not right."

"Not right?" repeated Lily, one eyebrow raised.

"No," said James, slightly more firmly, "it's not." He paused for a second, as though gathering his thoughts. "You deserve the truth – the _whole_ truth – and that's going to take time and privacy. With the best will in the world, this corridor offers neither. If I take you to Hogsmede, I can guarantee that we won't be interrupted." Lily stood there for a moment, considering his words. She was desperate to know the truth, but if there was any chance of rescuing their friendship she would take it, and James' invitation to Hogsmede seemed like a very large olive branch.

"Alright," she said, determinedly avoiding his gaze. "When?"

"Tomorrow," James replied promptly. "We can use our Head Girl and Boy privileges." Privately, Lily felt this was a misuse of said privilege, but her need for answers quelled this thought. In fact, Hogsmede did have its advantages. As it wasn't an official Hogsmede weekend, there would be a distinct lack of students and this would – at the very least – give them some privacy.

"Fine." Lily's agreement seemed to give James hope, but the redhead was determined to retain her independence. Nodding at him once, and refusing his proffered arm, Lily marched back to the Gryffindor common room.

Stripped of all additional information, one very important fact remained. Lily Evans had just agreed to go to Hogsmede with James Potter.

Clearly, miracles _could _happen.

**A/N: I know it's not the explanation you wanted... but I promise you'll get one soon!**


	28. Revelations

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not J.K. Rowling and none of her wonderful creation is mine. On a brighter note, I want to say a massive thank you to my beta Black Rose Blue and all those fantastic people who have reviewed/favourited/alerted this story. I love you all! So, without further, ado, on with the story. I hope you like it!**

Needless to say, Lily didn't sleep well that night. She tossed and turned, her mind whirring with an understandable intensity. Countless possibilities occurred to her, ranging from the sublime to the ridiculous. When dawn crept through the curtains, Lily knew it was a lost cause and tried to steal a few hours of rest. Lily Evan was not omniscient, and she reconciled herself with waiting.

By breakfast, despite a slight doze, Lily's patience was wearing thin. She picked at her food, suddenly nervous. At the back of her mind, the worry that she wouldn't like the truth was still plaguing her. Her optimistic streak was failing her, and it was with a certain amount of trepidation that she considered the day's plans. Discarding her burnt toast, Lily gulped down her coffee and headed back to her dormitory. She couldn't control much, but she _could_ control her appearance. And if James was going to choose Sawyer over Lily, well, it wouldn't hurt to remind him what he was loosing.

Dashing into the room she shared with the other seventh year girls, Lily flew at the mirror. A pale, green-eyed creature stared back. Not for the first time, Lily thanked the gods for her clear complexion. Her hair, on the other hand… Dispiritedly, she tugged at a tangled curl. She'd agreed to meet James at nine and the minute hand – most unfortunately – was ticking ever closer. Resigned to a messy bun, she began searching for some pins.

"What are you doing?" Spinning round, hand still groping blindly for pins, Lily saw Mary. She breathed a silent sigh of relief. She'd successfully avoided Sawyer – no mean feat considering the shared dormitory – and was anxious to keep it that way.

"Getting ready," she said blandly, trying to remain casual. Mary wasn't fooled.

"For James?" she asked smoothly, chuckling at Lily's blushes. "Don't worry, I'm not all-knowing. Sirius told me."

"_Sirius_ told you?" The infamous redhead temper was emerging and Lily resisted the urge to curse the boy.

"Yeah," replied Mary, irritatingly offhand. "But more of that later. We need to make you presentable." Before Lily had time to splutter an objection, the blonde waved her wand and Lily's knotted tresses felt into neatly rolling waves. "You can thank me later," she said, adding another wrist flick. "Now, get moving!"

Utterly bemused, and nerves temporarily assuaged, Lily headed down the stairs. She felt a little like Cinderella and ignored a sudden whim to check her shoes. However excited Mary was, she wouldn't resort to glass slippers. Not this time, anyway.

Reaching the bottom of the girl's staircase, she looked around. Almost instantly, her eyes alighted on James and she temporarily forgot to breathe. Thankfully, she wasn't the only one.

"Err… hi," said James awkwardly, staring at Lily with a slightly blindsided expression.

"Hello," she said coolly, secretly gratified at his reaction. Shaking his head a little, as though trying to clear it, James gestured at the portrait hole.

"Shall we?" Lily nodded. Determinedly ignoring his attempts at eye-contact and conversation, Lily ploughed through the space and clambered out of the common room entrance. To her surprise, however, James didn't head towards the Entrance Hall. Instead, he took a different turn, eventually stopping beside the statue of a one-eyed witch.

"What on _earth_ are you doing?" Lily burst out, unable to maintain her silence.

"You'll see," he replied, giving her a crooked smile. Apparently this was a reflex action, for he immediately schooled his features and cast Lily an apologetic glance.

Forcing herself not to smile in response, Lily continued to stare curiously at the Head Boy. Intrigued, she watched him tap the statue's hump and mutter something inaudible. A moment later, she had to restrain a gasp when the hump slid open.

"Merlin, James. Is that a… a secret passage?"

"Five points to Gryffindor," he said solemnly, before catching her eye and hurriedly hauling himself through the opening. Once he was out of sight, Lily permitted herself to roll her eyes. Even when she was mad at him, it was still second nature to tease each other. It always had been. She looked uncertainly at the dark hole.

"Don't worry," came James' voice, echoing slightly. "I'll catch you." For some reason, his choice of words caused Lily to pause.

"I wish you'd said that when I fell for you originally," she muttered. Ignoring her thumping heart, she copied James' movements and entered the space inside the statue. Unexpectedly, Lily felt herself gliding down a hidden slide and she resisted the urge to gasp. Before she'd had time to enjoy the ride, she shot out the other end.

Straight into James' arms.

If anything, her heart rate increased. For a long moment she looked at him, still in his embrace. The passage was dark, cobwebs spanning the corners, and the walls seemed claustrophobically close. Somehow, though, Lily didn't notice any of these things. Their eyes were locked again, and James was all she could see or feel. Before she could do anything too foolish, however, Lily pulled herself away. Memories of the last time she'd been in this position came flooding back and her anger, temporarily subdued, returned in full force. His argument with Sawyer was echoing in her ears and Lily couldn't ignore it. Scowling at him, Lily made a show of dusting herself off.

"Well?" she demanded, hands on hips. "What next?" If James noticed her sudden mood swing, he didn't comment on it, although his gaze seemed rather evaluating. Apparently deciding not to push Lily, he gave her a short explanation.

"This passage leads to the cellar of Honeydukes." Despite herself, Lily gaped at him.

"The sweet shop?"

"How many other Honeydukes do you know?" Lily blushed. Merlin, she was dense today. Madam Pomfrey was probably right, she thought viciously; James Potter _was_ a bad influence on her. In retaliation, she glared at James. Evidently realising he was on thin ice, James didn't pursue the subject and instead walked in stony silence down the passage. The ceiling was low and Lily was faced with the disconcerting sensation that the roof would cave in. Lily kept close to him, although she told herself it was self-preservation rather than anything else.

Determined to deter all thoughts of James Potter, Lily sought other topics to occupy her. Silently, she recited the ingredients for Dreamless Sleep and, when that failed, turned her mind to Alice and Frank's wedding. It had been postponed until later in the year, a combination of Auror and Order duties making an earlier wedding impossible. Lily felt this was rather sad, but accepted its practicality, determined that Alice and Frank's day – when it finally came – would be utterly perfect. However, she could only speculate on the wedding for so long and, before she knew it, her attention had returned to James.

After a few minutes of brisk walking, the pair found themselves at the end of the passage. Although she didn't want to admit it, Lily felt slightly bereft when James moved away from her. Irritated, she reminded herself of his lies and turned her attention to James' movements. Watching with barely disguised interest, she saw him disappear through a trapdoor and allowed herself to be hauled after him.

"Won't they catch us?" Lily murmured, edging closer to James again.

"Nah," he whispered, "they've never noticed before."

"_Before_?"

"You didn't think the House Elves provided us with Firewhiskey, did you?" Remembering past parties, Lily conceded the point. In all honesty she had, on more than one occasion, wondered about the Marauders' ability to produce illicit substances. Uncomfortably aware that this was the first of many truths she would discover that day, Lily placed a disapproving scowl upon her face and crept after James, who had begun to lead her through the dingy basement.

Several tense moments later, Lily and James were outside of Honeydukes, having subtly exited the cellar and edged their way through the shop. Lily had never been to Hogsmede without a gaggle of other students and the difference was striking. Without the flutter of a hundred black cloaks, the streets seemed rather bare and the inhabitants more ordinary. Lily realised her mind was rambling, but if her thoughts distracted her from her current situation – and the handsome boy beside her – she was prepared to live with it. She wasn't, however, prepared to follow him in a blind daze.

"Where are we going?" she asked stiffly, making a point of folding her arms tightly. James looked very much like he wanted to tell her it was a Marauders' secret and revel in his role as master of mystery; Lily wasn't stupid, the trip through the secret passage had been James' attempt to show off and win her over. The whole point of Heads' privileges was that they could leave the school _openly_. Regardless, Lily hadn't brought this up. Her logical side had believed this to be an excellent way of garnering Marauder secrets. Her heart, on the other hand, had thought differently. If this was as close to a date as they would ever get, she wanted it to be memorable and sneaking into Hogsmede through a secret passage was certainly an unforgettable experience.

James, who appeared to notice Lily's preoccupation, did not answer until he had Lily's full attention. "A small shed that belongs to the Shrieking Shack." This time, Lily struggled to articulate full words. Once she'd stopped gaping, she found her voice and directed another question at him.

"What?"

Admittedly, it wasn't her most elaborate sentence.

"The – uh – Marauders found it one day, and we've used it as a sort of clubhouse ever since." Despite the situation, Lily almost snorted. A _clubhouse_? An absurd image, born of the Order of the Phoenix meeting, floated into her mind and she sniggered a little. Maybe the idea of boy scouts wasn't so far-fetched after all…

Once again, James seemed to be aware of her shifting moods and a look of confusion crossed his face. Lily couldn't really blame him, even _she_ was wrong footed by her continually changing emotions. Standing in awkward silence for a moment, James came to a decision. Without warning, she grabbed Lily and pulled her close. For the second time that day, she was in James Potter's arms.

Unwanted, her troublesome heart stuttered and she gazed wordlessly up at him.

Then, before she could do more than stare, they span on the spot and disappeared into nothingness. Belatedly, Lily recognised the symptoms of apparition and seethed. Why didn't he warn her? Quite abruptly, the constricting feeling lifted and Lily found herself in a small wooden hut, still clasped tightly by James. That sense of security stole over her again, and she was entirely torn. She wanted to remain, but knew she should step away. Thankfully, James took the choice away from her. Releasing Lily, and stepping away, he ran a hand through his messy hair and looked apprehensive.

"Sorry about that," he muttered, "but the awkward silences were killing me. Thought it'd be best if I just Apparated us here." Lily wanted to disagree, wanted to start an argument, but held her tongue. James was right. It had been killing her too. Now the moment was here, however, Lily wasn't sure she desired the truth. To stave off the conversation, Lily glanced around, examining her surroundings. As she'd already registered, they were in a small wooden hut. Unlike the rest of the Shrieking Shack, though, there was something extraordinarily peaceful about the place and it had been lovingly kept.

"This is… nice," finished Lily lamely, gesturing at the clean floors and clear windows. She sat delicately on the edge of a solitary bench, refusing to meet James' eye, and brushed away a stray spider. She felt James' finger lift her chin up, allowing green to meet hazel.

"Lily." It wasn't a statement, an order or a question. In fact, Lily didn't know _what _it was. But it was an effective icebreaker, nonetheless.

"What?" she whispered, tearing her gaze away from his. James sat next to her, careful to keep a respectful distance. Lily almost wished he wouldn't, then kicked herself.

"Ask me."

This was it, the moment she had both longed for and dreaded. Although she had done a good job of repressing them, the thoughts and feelings surrounding James' actions with Sawyer came flooding back. Suddenly, the urge to sit closer evaporated. They were here because he had withheld the truth.

And she needed to know what it was.

Steeling her courage, Lily opened her mouth. "Why did you lie to me, James?" Her voice caught in her throat. There was no going back.

"It's a long story," James began slowly, "but you need to hear it." Lily nearly rolled her eyes at the obviousness of this, but she managed to control them. Ignoring her twitches, James continued. His expression was anxious and his tone wavered slightly. "When you overheard Sawyer and me, it… it wasn't what you thought."

"What was it, then?" Lily asked harshly, irritated by his prevarications.

"She was giving me advice."

"I'd worked that out for myself, thanks," said Lily coolly. "She was quite clearly telling you to stop stringing poor, _smitten_ Lily along," she quoted viciously, refusing to acknowledge the pain this caused.

"No! No, she wasn't. She wanted me to be honest with you about our relationship."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"No," repeated James, "it means the relationship never existed. Not really."

There was a ringing silence. Truthfully, Lily could've heard a pin drop. As it was, she had to content herself with the gentle patter of rain. The temperature had dropped and the air was thick, full of unsaid words and unspoken feelings.

"What?" she breathed, hardly believing her ears.

"I only went out with her to… to get over you." If possible, the silence deepened. The rain continued to drum on the roof, but the inhabitants were deathly still. James, who had refused to meet Lily's eyes throughout his explanation, studiously avoided her gaze and – finally – broke the eerie quiet. It seemed as though the words spilled out of him, smashing through an emotional dam, and he couldn't appear to stop.

"She was everything you weren't, your polar opposite. I knew she was shallow; I knew she used people and saw me as a trophy boyfriend, but I didn't care. It was just another thing that made her different. I knew you'd never treat me like that and I hoped Sawyer's casual attitude could influence me, show me there were other girls besides you. In some respects, I used her just as much as she used me. But it didn't work. How could it? All it served to do was remind me how much I cared for you, how much I needed you."

Lily didn't know what to say. A warm glow was spreading through her, but she fiercely batted it away. She wasn't ready to feel like that. Not when there were so many questions still left to answer.

"Sawyer figured it out. In fact, I reckon she always knew. She went through a phase of possessiveness, determined – I think – to beat you at something, but she soon realised I was a lost cause. I'm not sure she was too broken up about it, actually; monogamy was never really her thing, y'know. After a long conversation, we finally broke up."

"At the start of the Christmas holidays?" Lily asked, not really needing the confirmation. She felt almost numb at the revelations. To her surprise, however, James shook his head. He looked almost ashamed.

"November."

"November?" Lily echoed, shock infusing her tone. Her quick mind whirred into action and she realised that this would have been around the time that he'd asked _Lily_ for advice about his relationship with Sawyer. But if it was already over, why bother asking? Unless... "I don't… why did you…" She couldn't complete the sentence. Although part of her was ecstatic at James' feelings, another felt betrayed by the length of the lie.

"Why did we lie?" James finished, sounding guilty. "To make you jealous." He said this last sentence baldly, as though challenging her, and Lily now knew why James had asked for her help in November. He'd been _testing_ her. She didn't want to rise to the bait, but she couldn't help it.

"And Sawyer agreed?" asked Lily sceptically, traces of anger beginning to surface. Whatever his intentions, James had manipulated her. And that hurt. The warm glow seemed to diminish, overwhelmed by Lily's confusion, but it still continued to flicker.

"It was her idea."

"You have got to be kidding me," said Lily flatly, unable to see Sawyer as any sort of altruistic Cupid.

"It seems incredible, I know," admitted James, running a hand through his hair again, "but she did. Somewhere along the line – crazy as it sounds – we became, for lack of a better word, friends. She can be shallow and selfish, but some of that is an act, and in her own screwed up way she cares." Lily's jaw had dropped at James' declaration and she wore an unflattering expression of disbelief.

"And?" she prompted, her tightly folded arms relaxing slightly. Unexpected tears began to rise, and she hastily blinked them away. She didn't know why she wanted to cry, but she knew it was coming. Her emotions had been through a lot and she was reaching breaking point, even if James' answers had begun to assuage her anger.

"And she suggested that we… that we continue to act as a couple. She said that it was the best way to find out how you felt and I was so desperate that I listened to her. Who else was I going to ask? The Marauders aren't exactly known for steady relationship and my Dad… well, my Dad has enough problems as it is. He can't fix _my_ issues, too. I know," he continued, holding up a hand to stop Lily's interruption, "that Sawyer had some ulterior motives; I suspect she quite enjoyed the power she held over us, but she gave me the advice I needed. By the time I realised it was the wrong thing to do, the charade had lasted longer than the actual thing and I was still uncertain how you felt. That was when Sawyer and I ended our… public relationship and I started to really try with you. I was so close to telling you, and when that bloody mistletoe ensnared us I thought it might have meant… well, I thought it might have meant something. The way you looked at me… I couldn't help but hope. But then the whole Snape thing happened and I went back to doubting myself, doubting _us_. So I decided – foolishly, it seems – to ask Sawyer for her help again. _That's_ what you overheard. She was finally giving me the right advice, but I was too afraid to try it." James took a deep breath, calming himself, before starting again. "I was a coward," he stated bluntly. "But, before I had gathered the courage, you overheard everything and I realised – far too late – that I had to tell you."

For the first time, James looked Lily in the eyes. Despite her raging emotions, her breath hitched and her heart raced. "It's you, Lily. It's always been you."

They were so close, now, that Lily could see each eyelash. There was no denying it, she wanted to kiss him. She wanted it more than she'd ever wanted anything. He was everything to her, her best friend and her confidante, and there was no doubt in her mind that he felt the same way. After his impassioned speech, Lily knew his feelings were genuine. She could even sympathise with his decisions, hadn't she suffered the same agony of indecision? She could even understand his dependence on Sawyer.

But he had still lied.

Close to tears, Lily pulled away.

"Do you hate me?" James asked, a flicker of desolation appearing in his eyes. She shook her head mutely.

"No, I could _never _hate you," whispered Lily, placing her hand on his. "Quite the reverse, in fact. But I need to think about everything, James. It's a lot to take in. Can you give me that time?" She knew, on some level, that she would eventually confess her feelings. But she also needed to deal with the complex storm of emotions that engulfed her. Something existed between James and herself, and she didn't want to ruin it by rushing in. There were some issues that needed to be resolved, on both sides. And she couldn't do that in a glorified shack.

"I'd give you anything," he replied, without a trace of hesitation. Oddly enough, this was the final straw. Tears began to spill from the corners of her eyes and Lily leapt to her feet. His simple and heartfelt declaration had been utterly perfect, and, in some ways, that made the situation more difficult.

"I just… I just need to be alone." Without pausing to think, she dashed from the little shed and – recognising their location – began to run blindly towards the school. Grass whipped at her legs and rain battered her face. In her hurry to escape, she had forgotten the weather. Totally disregarding her ruined hair, Lily splashed through puddles as she followed the path back to the school. Reaching the edge of Hogsmede, she paused for breath. It came in gasping heaves, and she nearly doubled over.

"Lily!" cried a panicked voice from behind her. She twisted round, still a little hunched. James was rushing toward her and, for one moment, Lily was sure he was ignoring her instructions. Torn between her heart and her head, she straightened up and – as the world righted itself – she realised something was very wrong.

James had drawn his wand.

And it wasn't pointed at her.

It was pointed at the masked figures beside her.

**A/N: So, that was the explanation. I know James went about things the wrong way and that Lily's emotions are all over the place, but I'd like to think you feel a little sympathy for both of their situations. They're not perfect, but I hope you can love them anyway! :) **


	29. The Battle Lines Are Drawn

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and none of her wonderful creation is mine. As always, huge thanks to my beta Black Rose Blue and to all the wonderful people who have favourited/alerted/reviewed this story. I can't describe how much it means to me. So, I hope you enjoy this next chapter! **

For a moment, Lily's heart seemed to fail. During her conversation with James it had gone into overdrive, but the appearance of the masked figures had caused it to stop. Without pausing to think, she drew her own wand and ran towards James, ducking around the cloaked men. Her eyes darted from side to side, taking in their surroundings and weighing their options.

It didn't look good.

Desperately trying to apparate, Lily discovered she couldn't. Something had thickened the air and she couldn't undo it.

"What do you want?" called James defiantly, edging in front of Lily. His chivalry was touching, but Lily had no intention of fleeing. She and James were in this together.

"Protecting the Mudblood, Potter? Like father, like son," drawled a voice, emanating from within the masked group. As they watched, a black robed man moved to the front and twirled his wand.

"Don't call her that!" James spat, anger infusing his tone.

"Be careful," Lily murmured, placing a restraining hand in his. It fit perfectly and Lily felt a small thrill at the contact. The man's next words, however, drove all such thoughts from her mind.

"I'll call her what I like," he said diffidently, still directing his wand at the young couple. "I must say, I don't see what the fuss is about." He stepped closer still, and James let out a hissing breath. Silently observing, she saw James' hand twitch and hoped he wouldn't use his wand. There was no use denying it; they were hopelessly outnumbered. Trying to think logically, Lily noted that they were on the edge of Hogsmede and clung to the possibility that someone would stumble across the scene.

In the meantime, though, their best bet was to stall. She only hoped James' confrontational stance didn't provoke a violent response. Rigidly, they continued to stand there, hands clasped and wands raised, as the man advanced. With clear disdain, the man placed a finger under Lily's chin and tilted her head, examining her from all sides. Almost immediately, Lily pulled herself away and placed an expression of deepest loathing on her face.

"Get off her!" James shouted, furious.

"With pleasure," the man replied coolly, "I see nothing worth touching." Behind his mask, his eyes twinkled with malice and Lily suppressed a shiver.

"In that case," she said, finally finding her voice, "I don't understand why you're _wasting_ your time."

"Oh, the little Mudblood has spirit," taunted a female voice. A woman emerged from the group, heavy hair framing another masked face, and stalked towards Lily and James. "I'm _so_ looking forward to breaking her," she said, a decidedly maniacal emphasis on her words.

"Be quiet, Bellatrix," hissed the first man, clearly the leader. "You know very well that the Dark Lord wants to make an example of them." The woman made a noise of protest, but returned to the others. At his instructions, Lily felt a frozen heart sink. Her suspicions about their identities were correct. They were Death Eaters. Bizarrely, however, this seemed to strengthen her resolve to defy them.

"What does Voldemort want with us?" challenged Lily, her Gryffindor bravery rearing its head. "By your creed, I'm not worth the effort." She made the jab boldly, having come to the bewildering conclusion that these Death Eaters were here for her and James."

"The _Dark Lord_," replied the masked man smoothly, "wishes to put Mudbloods and blood traitors in their rightful place. I believe, he sees you as a necessary… vehicle for his message." James stiffened beside her, and Lily tightened her grip on his hands. Although she tried to ignore it, fear had flooded her system and she understood, with terrifying certainty, what they intended to do. Voldemort, for his own twisted reasons, wanted them killed. Lily and James stood for everything he despised, and their deaths would send a clear message to all who sought to thwart him.

With increasing futility, the pair continued to waste time, throwing agonised glances toward the village.

"How did you find us?" James asked coldly, staring at the Death Eater and continuing his attempt to block Lily from harm. Her fear for James' safety was palpable, and she was suddenly aware of their mortality. Looking at him, Lily realised just how deep her feelings were. His problems with Sawyer were nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the terror of losing him. As the man began to speak, Lily silently swore that she'd never leave James' side again. She refused to consider a world without him.

"The Dark Lord has spies everywhere, Potter. Surely you know that?" the man replied, almost lazily in Lily's opinion. He seemed to want to say more, but another man interrupted him.

"We have no time for this," he declared, rousing murmured agreement from the others, "the Dark Lord is waiting and I have no wish to rouse his fury."

"True," conceded the first, considering his words. "Well," he continued, giving Lily and James his full attention, "as fun as this has been, it's really time that we-"

But he didn't have time to complete his sentence. Out of nowhere, or so it seemed to Lily, a flash of red light hit him squarely in the chest. He fell like a ton of bricks and James took advantage of the confusion to drag Lily under cover, firing spells as he went. Getting the idea, Lily began casting protective enchantments and looked around for their rescuer.

To her very great surprise, not to mention relief, a familiar pair of redheads was battling their way towards them, throwing identical spells at the Death Eaters.

"Fancy seeing you here," said the Prewetts casually, as though they were meeting for a pint in The Three Broomsticks. As a green spell narrowly missed their heads, the foursome ducked down behind some foliage. "Reinforcements are on their way," muttered one of the twins, shooting another curse around a tree.

"Thanks," returned Lily, copying his gesture. From her brief reconnaissance, she saw that their opponents were edging closer and had fallen into tight formation. Even with the twins on their side, James and Lily were outnumbered and the latter prayed that the reinforcements would arrive in time.

"Come out, come out, Potter," chanted Bellatrix, her tone distressingly sing-song. Fabian and Gideon – Lily had no idea which was which – exchanged raised eyebrows, quite a feat considering the situation, but James was far from amused. His fist was clenched tightly and there was a hatred in his eyes that Lily had never seen before. The reason for this became apparent almost immediately. "Don't you want revenge?" Bellatrix cooed, her voice even closer than before, "don't you want to hurt the woman who crippled your father?" There was an unnerving amount of glee in her voice and Lily was convinced the woman was clinically insane. Terrified James would react to her taunts, Lily grasped his sleeve. He turned to her with unseeing eyes.

"Ignore her, James," she whispered, raising her wand and firing a hex in the Death Eaters' general direction. As she did so, she became aware that they were far too close. Even with the twins' formidable spell work, not to mention James and Lily's contribution, they had no hope of picking them all off. Before she could debate the cowardice or logic of hiding behind some greenery, however, their woodland shields were blasted away and all choice was removed. Launching themselves to their feet, the small group charged at the Death Eaters, just as Lily heard a shout from the left.

Veering around their opponents, who had broken apart after the unexpected assault, Lily saw Moody, Alice and Frank hurtling towards them. Their wands were raised and their expressions were defiant. Soon, the air was filled with flashes of light and wordless cries. The duelling was fierce, but the Order members seemed to be gaining an advantage. Rushing forward, intending to join the fray, Lily and James trampled over the fallen Death Eater. Lily knew James was seeking Bellatrix and was determined to stay by his side. She couldn't stop him, but she could try and protect him.

Weaving between the battling figures, the Head Boy and Head Girl headed towards Bellatrix. The only female Death Eater, the woman was standing in the centre, firing hexes at anyone in her sight. For one awful moment, Lily thought she'd hit Alice, but the young Auror dived to the side and rejoined the fight.

"Leave her alone!" bellowed James, drawing the witch's attention. She turned towards him, eyes flashing behind her silver mask, and let out a slightly hysterical laugh.

"Did your father's injuries teach you nothing?" she jeered, hair flying around her face. Without waiting for his reply, she began throwing jinxes at James. Valiantly, James dodged and parried her spells, often returning them in kind. Her taunts were fuelling his anger and there was an unnerving strength behind his magic. But James, when all was said and done, was a schoolboy and his inexperience showed. As one of Bellatrix's spells narrowly missed his ear, Lily tried to distract the witch. Summoning her courage, Lily decided a return to basics was necessary. Breath coming in sharp gasps, she threw a series of stunners at Bellatrix, hoping to turn her attention.

She succeeded.

"So, the little Mudblood wants to play!" Vindictively, Bellatrix slashed at the air and corresponding gashes appeared on Lily's face. Wincing, she stumbled backwards, casting a silent _Protego_. This seemed to deflect some of Bellatrix's blows, but a few found their way through the shield. Still, Lily continued to cast stunners and avoid the witch's spells. She knew it wasn't the wisest of moves, but it drew Bellatrix away from James and that was all that mattered.

She should have known, of course, that James wouldn't let her do that.

"_Stupefy_!" James yelled, leaping over a motionless body. Quick as a viper, Bellatrix responded. Her curse lashed through the air and, before Lily knew what was happening, collided with James'. The combined spell hurtled towards James and hit him squarely in the chest, causing him to crumple to the ground.

Lily's whole word seemed to stop.

All around her, Death Eaters were disappearing, clearly overwhelmed by the Order's reinforcements. They abandoned their unconscious colleagues, the instinct for self-preservation overcoming their loyalty, and undid the anti-Apparition wards. Only Bellatrix remained, but even she looked to be on the verge of leaving. Snarling furiously, the witch spun on the spot and left.

But Lily didn't really notice this. In fact, she didn't really notice anything at all.

Ignoring everything else, Lily sprinted back the way she had come, desperate to know James' fate. White hot anger was flowing through her veins and, in that moment, she understood James' earlier emotions. Her mind a whirl, Lily rushed over the muddy ground and skidded to a halt beside James.

He was motionless.

Sliding over the rain-covered grass, Lily flung herself to the earth beside James. Tears were falling down her face, mingling with the rain, and she desperately reached for him.

"Please be alright, please be alright," she muttered, grasping his body and heaving him over.

She stared at his face.


	30. A Perfect Love

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and none of her wonderful characters are mine. Sigh. Thank you, as always, to my fabulous beta Black Rose Blue and all the lovely people who have favourited/alerted/reviewed this story. It means more than I can say. On a related note, the usual metaphorical cookies will be given to the 200th reviewer and it would be rather amazing if we could reach that total. So, without further ado, here's the next chapter. I really hope you like it!**

Even through the sheets of rain, Lily could see that James' eyes were closed. Heedless of the tears pouring down her face, she leant over him. Beneath the shock of dark hair, he was pale, handsome features waxen and still.

He looked like a corpse.

"You can't die on me," she whispered, desperately seeking a pulse.

The rain was falling harder than ever as she grasped his wrist, blurring her vision. The others were making their way over, shouting meaningless things in her direction. Alice reached her side first, watching with undisguised terror as Lily struggled to find a heartbeat.

"Frank!" Alice cried, grabbing James' other hand. Her fiancée strode forward, wearing a sombre expression. Joining the girls on the ground, he began to wave his wand over James' chest, muttering inaudible enchantments. His face grew grim, but he continued to work. Several tense minutes passed, the Order members looking increasingly concerned. Frank had run his hand through his hair on multiple occasions, and Lily let out a quiet sob.

"I've done everything I can," he said finally. "It was a combination of curses that hit him and I've reversed the damage to the best of my abilities. Now, it's up to James' body to combat the repercussions. All that's left for me to do is revive him." Lily nodded mutely, reaching for Alice. Her friend gave her arm a reassuring squeeze, even as her fiancée cast the final spell.

"_Rennervate_," he muttered, a flash of light illuminating the scene. For one awful moment, Lily thought it hadn't worked. Involuntarily, she let out a shuddering cry and cradled James' hand in her own. Pressing it to her face, she heard a dull thud.

His heart was beating.

Not daring to breathe, Lily looked back at James. With a gasp, she saw his eyelids flutter. His chest had begun to rise and fall, shallowly, it was true, but it was a sight to gladden sore eyes. All around her, Lily heard sighs of relief. Even Moody, battle-hardened as he was, gave a small grimace and the twins actually high-fived each other. But Lily's attention was focused on James. Watching him minutely, she saw signs of colour in his cheeks and the smallest of groans was audible.

Blearily, as though awakening from a deep sleep, James opened his eyes. Lily made to lunge for him, fully determined to hold him close, but Alice – still wan – held her back.

"Let Frank check him over," she advised, managing a small smile. Under the group's scrutiny, James tried to sit up. Frank, however, pushed him back down and resumed his diagnostic spells.

"What happened?" he managed finally, taking in his surroundings. "Did we win?"

"We successfully thwarted their attack, yes," replied Moody, fixing James with a penetrating look. "Despite some ill-advised heroics from _certain_ members of the Order." He looked from James to Lily, clearly intent on reprimanding them.

"Give it a rest, Moody," said one of the twins, rolling his eyes. "All things considered, I think they did a good job. Going up against Bellatrix Lestrange? That takes _guts_." They looked at Lily and James with newfound respect. Lily, however, couldn't help but think Moody had a point. It may have been courageous, but it had also been reckless. She couldn't deny, though, the feeling of pride that coursed through her at the Prewett's praise.

In reply to the twin's declaration, Moody merely grunted. Gesturing at the unconscious Death Eater, he made his meaning clear. Exchanging glances, the Prewetts rolled up their sleeves and set about securing their opponent. From the air, cords appeared and wound themselves around his wrists and ankles. As an added precaution, they took his wand.

When this was done, Moody strode towards them. With a fluid motion, quite unlike his ungainly walk, he ripped the mask from the Death Eater's face. Cries of surprise echoed around their circle, but Lily didn't recognise the unmasked man.

"It's _Wenlock_," hissed Alice, suddenly angry. During the ensuing conversation, Lily discovered that he was a high-ranking Auror from the Ministry of Magic. The expressions of betrayal on Alice and Frank's faces were both upsetting and unnerving. If Wenlock could escape detection, who else had evaded discovery?

Whilst the others debated the implications of Wenlock's loyalties, Lily returned her attention to James. She was drenched to the skin, coated in rain and mud, but James' recovery left a warm glow. Without meaning to, she stroked a few wet strands out of his face and tightened her hold on his hand.

"I thought I'd lost you," she said brokenly, confessing her fear. His hazel eyes looked at her with understanding, a flicker of something indefinable in their depths.

"Well, you're not getting rid of me that easily," he replied, smiling crookedly at her. With a little effort, he pulled himself up, ignoring Frank's earlier warnings. Luckily, the others were a little way off, deeply involved in their conversation and didn't notice his casual disregard for their instructions. Both clambered to their feet, neither willing to break eye contact. Once more, she was painfully aware of how close they were, yet had no desire to change it. To Lily, it felt as though they were having a silent conversation, saying all the things they didn't dare to say out loud.

In that moment, Lily knew she and James understood each other perfectly.

Hesitantly, James reached forward and tucked a sodden curl behind Lily's ear, letting his hand brush her cheek. His touch left a trail of fire across Lily's face and, without thinking, she lent into it, still staring into his eyes. At this, James' uncertainty seemed to melt away. His fingers still ghosting across her skin, he placed his hand at the small of her back and pulled Lily closer still. The sense of security stole over her once more, banishing her doubts and fears. She knew, with every fibre of her being, that this was where she was meant to be. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but, before she could do more than breathe, James' next action caused all words to vanish.

He kissed her.

And as his lips brushed hers, sending shivers down her spine, Lily responded. Something had ignited within her, and she returned his kisses with equal passion, nerves swept aside by James' certainty. All she could feel were James' lips on hers, her heart beating with barely concealed joy. The rain continued to pour, their unruly manes tamed by the droplets that ran down their faces and bodies. But, for all the notice they took, it could have been glorious sunshine.

It was a hundred different clichés, yet utterly individual. He was the boy she'd loved to hate, yet he'd wormed his way into her heart and soul. It was a romance she'd never wanted, but one that she'd needed. And, above everything else, it was an imperfect couple finding a perfect love. A warmth was spreading through Lily that had nothing to do with the weather and, when they finally stopped kissing, the expression on James' face was enough to chase away any lingering chill.

Because, in the midst of war, he had shown her that life, and perhaps love, could continue.


	31. A New Chapter

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I just like to play with her creation. Firstly, I have to apologise for the horrifically long break between updates. I'm so sorry! As some of you may know, this was the week that A level results came out in Britain, and I have to admit that the stress frightened away my muse. Thankfully, I was really pleased with the grades and my muse, a flighty creature, has returned :)**

**Massive thanks, as always, to my fabulous beta BlackRoseBlue and all the wonderful people who read/favourite/alert/review this story. It means more than I can say. So, without further ado, here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy!  
**

Breathlessly, Lily stared at James. His rain soaked face was flushed and he returned her look, one hand continuing to trace her cheek.

"Lily," he said, voice laden with emotion. He paused for a moment, clearly searching for words. Watching him closely, Lily tried to bring her whirling thoughts under control. His kiss had robbed her of coherency – not to mention breath – and she struggled to contain her happiness. She felt as though time had stopped, and would have willingly stayed in that moment forever.

As always, though, reality had to barge in.

"No canoodling on the job, Potter," barked Moody, shattering the silence. Behind his back, Fabian and Gideon wolf whistled, still training their wands on the captured Death Eater. Alice, meanwhile, was trying to contain her glee and fixed Lily with a triumphant smile. It amazed Lily that such antics could happen in the middle of war, but it was reassuring nonetheless.

"Yes, sir," said James, his euphoria making solemnity an impossibility. The trademark smirk graced his features, but it lacked the arrogance that had once infuriated Lily. The fact that she was the _cause _of his joy was immensely gratifying, and it certainly reflected her own emotions. Lily felt whole, in a way she hadn't for a very long time.

Smiling faintly, she laced her fingers through James' and focused her attention on Moody. "Right," Moody grunted, relief etched on his face, "now you've got _that _out of your systems, we need to assess the damage."

"Of a kiss?" inquired Fabian innocently. "Because I'm pretty sure that both parties-"

"Shut it, Prewett," said Moody, ignoring Alice's giggles and the Heads' blushes. Sparing the silent Frank an approving look, he continued as though there had been no interruption. "We need to assess the repercussions of the attack, and the implications of Wenlock's loyalties. Dumbledore will want to know exactly what happened."

"Dumbledore?" Belatedly, Lily remembered that their trip to Hogsmede had been unsanctioned and her stomach squirmed uneasily. Although they were Head Boy and Girl, and technically allowed to visit the village whenever they wanted, Lily had a nagging suspicion that they should've told someone in authority where they were going. Would he be disappointed in them? James, evidently sensing her inner turmoil, squeezed her fingers comfortingly and lead her after Moody, who had already begun the long trek up to the castle.

"Yeah," filled in Frank, watching Moody's retreating back. "As head of the Order, Dumbledore'll want to know about the latest development."

"Capturing Wenlock?"

"Partly," replied Frank darkly. He threw his fiancée a significant glance and Alice hastened to answer Lily's echoed query.

"Partly?"

"Voldemort ordered your deaths," elaborated Alice, laying a hand on Lily's arm. "You represent everything he loathes."

"Mudbloods and blood traitors." Frank said this harshly, anger evident in every syllable. At his words, Lily's early realisation about their symbolic importance returned and, despite the avoidance of immediate danger, she couldn't repress a shudder. It seemed incredible that she, a ginger schoolgirl, was worthy of Voldemort's attention. But the threat was all too real, and Lily was painfully aware of the fact.

Tightening her grip on James' hand, and starting to climb the rocky path to Hogwarts, she listened to the others' conversation.

"Do you reckon the attack in November was linked?" asked James seriously.

"What attack was this?" queried Gideon, looking interested. Tightening Wenlock's bonds, he turned to face the others. Apparently, he didn't care that the Death Eater's floating body was scraping painfully against the ground and Lily – beginning to ache from the day's events – was in no mood to remind him.

"Some bastard cursed Lily," supplied James, a quiet fury infusing his words. His eyes flashed behind his glasses and he pulled her a little closer. It was mildly inappropriate, but Lily was seized by the desire to kiss James again. His breath was tickling her ear and she could feel herself blushing once more. Ruthlessly discarding this whim, because she didn't think Moody's heart could take it, Lily half-listened to James' explanation of Avery's attack. Unconsciously, her hand rose to her throat. Could it really be possible that Voldemort, or one of his followers, had told Avery to attack her? Reminded that Avery still roamed free, she made a silent resolution to avoid empty corridors.

Her reverie was interrupted by an exclamation from Fabian. True to form, he'd found something humorous in James' tale."A spell that can permanently shut this one up?" he asked, jerking a thumb in Lily's direction. "I don't know why they're wasting their time as Death Eaters, they could patent it and make their fortune!" Although James, Alice and Frank appeared torn, Gideon had no such compunction and roared with laughter. Conceding defeat, James gave her a wide grin.

"I see they've got your measure," he joked weakly, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"It seems they do," Lily replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. The twins' black humour was infectious and gave her some much needed perspective. James' kiss, the simplest of gestures, had also brightened her mood and – surprisingly – she entered the castle with a broad grin on her face.

Grinning foolishly, they began the walk through the halls. Before she knew it, they'd reached Dumbledore's office, Death Eater in tow, and gave the gargoyle the password.

A few seconds later, they piled into the beautiful room. Moody had evidently got there before them, for he and Dumbledore were engaged in serious conversation. To the latter's credit, he did not seemed shocked by the motley collection of people in his office – even if it did sound like a bad joke.

"The Headmaster, twins, three Aurors, a Head Boy, a Head Girl and a Death Eater walk into a bar," muttered James, clearly following her train of thought. Repressing a laugh, Lily focused on Dumbledore, watching him finish his talk with Moody. Patting the old auror on the arm, his piercing blue eyes fell upon the pair and he strode towards them. He wasted no time in enquiring after their welfare, expressing his relief that they had survived unscathed. Robes swishing, he also thanked the others for their prompt action, a sentiment Lily heartily agreed with.

"Without your timely assistance, I doubt Miss Evans and Mr Potter would be standing in front of me," he stated softly, smiling benignly at his former students. "I must, I'm afraid, ask one last favour of you. I have tasked Alastor with accompanying Wenlock to the Ministry, but I would prefer to have extracted any pertinent information before that occurs."

"As we have just seen, the Ministry has been infiltrated on every level, and I cannot guarantee that Wenlock's capture will be treated as the boon it is. Minerva's classroom, I believe, is empty, and will doubtlessly provide ample space for your interrogation." With a shiver of apprehension, Lily wondered what exactly this _interrogation_ would entail. She was almost grateful when Frank voiced similar concerns, secretly wanting to know how flexible Dumbledore's morals were.

"You don't want us to torture him, do you?" asked Frank, a small crease appearing between his furrowed brows. "Because, with all due respect, sir, that would make us as bad as the Death Eaters. I won't torture anyone, no matter who they are."

"Nor would I expect you to," said Dumbledore. For one fleeting second, Lily thought she saw discomfort upon his face, but it was immediately replaced with a look of pride at Frank's words. "A small dose of Veritaserum will suffice." Reaching into deep pockets, the wizard pulled out a glass vial and handed it to Moody.

Lily was, truth be told, a little shocked at his request. She hadn't realised that the Order went to such extreme measures, but she had to shed her naivety. Veritaserum was the lesser of two evils and she would have to accept that. By the resigned look on the others' faces, she thought they had come to similar decisions. Nodding solemnly, the Aurors and twins prepared to make the escape. Alice pulled Lily into a brief embrace, whispering a garbled message about bridesmaid dresses. Frank, meanwhile, began to levitate the unconscious Death Eater down the spiral staircase, the twins and Moody following close behind.

Before Lily and James could leave, however, Dumbledore called them back.

"A word, Miss Evans, Mr Potter?" Waiting until the others had left, he clasped his hands together. "You are not ready, I think, to see that," said the elderly man, gazing perceptively at them. Judging by the wave of relief Lily had just experienced, she was inclined to think he was right. "I have a few questions for you. I realise you are tired and overwhelmed by your experiences, so I will not detain you for too long."

"We appreciate that, sir," said James, encircling Lily's waist with his arm. Leaning into him, Lily showed her agreement.

"I think," said Dumbledore heavily, "that we have a spy in our midst."

"A spy?" echoed Lily, her heart clenching.

"I am afraid so."

"But… who?"

"That is the problem. I do not know." All of a sudden, Dumbledore looked very old. With the slightest of hesitations, he continued. "I must ask, who did you tell of your plans?"

"You can't think that our friends would sell us to Voldemort," said James, indignant. "They would die rather than betray us!"

"Let us hope so, Mr Potter. Nevertheless, I require an answer."

"Marlene, Mary, Remus, Peter and Sirius," said Lily quickly, interjecting before James could lose his temper. "But, in all honesty, anyone could have heard them talking about it."

"I see," said Dumbledore. Lily had the strongest feeling that he was reserving judgement. "In that case," he said, "I would recommend you do your best to discover the identity of the eavesdropper." This time, there was a definite hint of steel in his voice, and Lily, not for the first time, wondered what lay beneath his benevolent exterior.

"We will," vowed James.

In reply, Dumbledore gestured towards the door. "I am," he said, "very proud of how you handled yourselves today." Recognising his words as a dismissal, the pair left the office. Unlike the last time they had exited the room together, Lily didn't feel the need for silence. She looked at James, his arm looped around her, and suppressed a smile. There was something she wanted to clarify, and she couldn't resist having a little fun at James' expense. Just because she'd fallen head over heels for James didn't mean she wanted to become one of those girls who simpered sycophantically at him.

"I noticed," she said slowly, "that you used the pronoun "we" an awful lot in there."

"Well, yeah," said James, grinning broadly, "I've wanted say it for so long, and..." He ruffled her hair, and gazed into her face, his voice trailing off. Suddenly, however, he appeared stricken. "Does it bother… You don't… I mean, we are still… will you be my girlfriend?" he blurted out finally.

And it wasn't the most sophisticated or original of his many proposals, but – in Lily's opinion – he'd never sounded more sincere. Allowing the smile to spread across her features, she stood upon the tips of her toes and planted a chaste kiss on James' cheek.

"I'll take that as a yes," he whispered in reply, drawing her close to him.

It had, by anyone's standards, been a _very _eventful day.


End file.
